


Serendipity

by Bumble_Bees



Category: Love Island (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Emotional Sex, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Love Island: The Game Season 2, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Post-Villa (Love Island: The Game), Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:16:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22859077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bumble_Bees/pseuds/Bumble_Bees
Summary: Noah, now single, watches back the episodes a few months after leaving the villa.Genevieve picked Bobby on the first day, but won with Lucas by her side. What could have happened on camera unbeknownst to the other Islanders, and how will it affect Noah’s relationship with Genevieve on the outside?
Relationships: Bobby McKenzie/Main Character (Love Island), Lucas Koh/Main Character (Love Island), Noah & Main Character (Love Island), Noah/Main Character (Love Island)
Comments: 179
Kudos: 189





	1. Just Friends?

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoy my first fan fiction ❤️
> 
> Let me know your thoughts in the comments!

Three weeks since Hope had left him, Noah found himself curled up in his armchair, remote in hand, finally ready to watch the episodes back with a clear head. He kept trying to persuade Hope to watch with him, but she always put it off.  
“There’s like thirty episodes babes, you know I don’t have time for that,” Hope had chided.

It made sense then. They might have only lived half an hour apart, but they still had to work, not to mention the expectations that came with their new found fame; interviews, TV appearances, photoshoots. Hope spent a lot of time advertising some _SkinnyLeaf_ products on Instagram. She was working hard to put herself on top, after Genevieve and Lucas had stolen her big win.

Noah couldn’t stand all the attention. He missed his old, anonymous life. When he could quietly read in a coffee shop without being recognised or photographed. But Hope... she loved it.

Whenever she saw paparazzi, Hope would play up to it. She didn’t want to hold his hand in public unless a camera was pointing in their direction. Noah could see now that he had just been a pawn in her quest for fame. The feeling weighed heavy on his chest as he pressed play on the first episode.

***

On that first day, Noah had been sick with nerves. His empty stomach growled in protest as he stood with four other shirtless men, outside their new home for the summer.

What surprised Noah, was how his nerves didn’t show on the TV screen. He surveyed his own face looking for a trace of the emotions he was feeling those few months ago, but his expression was unreadable.

_I must be a better actor than I thought._

Genevieve entered the garden then, and took her position in front of the five men on the lawn. Her Julia Roberts smile rested easy and inviting on her pretty face.

She was beautiful - that was a given - but intimidating too. Wild, dark ringlets fell just past her shoulders. A small dimple in each cheek. She was only 5”2 without her heels, but she held herself tall, perfectly painted nails resting on her hip. She was wearing a cute green and white checked bikini. Modest enough for meeting nine complete strangers, but somehow _undeniably_ sexy. Like a pin up girl from the 50s.

Genevieve stood in front of each man, and drank them in one by one. It seemed she liked having all of their eyes on her; and so, Noah mistook her confidence for cockiness. He wasn’t interested in party girls, the ones who demanded attention from every man in the room. He wanted a woman who only had eyes for him.

When she caught Noah’s eye, he stiffened. “I’m Noah.” Despite his first impression of Genevieve, he found himself blushing and wondering what she thought of him. She just smiled warmly, and mouthed “ _Hi_ ” _._ Her dark eyes lingered on his, before she moved on to Rocco.

 _Hmph_. _Not_ _for me_.

How strange, Noah considered, that they had left Spain as such close friends. His opinion of her shifted so dramatically over those fleeting four weeks. He knew he’d made a friend for life by the time summer was over. In hindsight he wished he hadn’t judged Gen so quickly.

***

_Genevieve, welcome to the Beach Hut. How are you feeling in your first couple?_

“Pretty good. Bobby seems really nice,” she began cautiously. “You know, it might do me some good to be with someone so lighthearted. I normally go for the serious ones.”

_Did anyone else catch your eye?_

She smiled shyly then, her lightly freckled cheeks flushed pink. “Maybe… Okay, yes. I’ve never met a more attractive man than Noah,” she shrugged. “But he doesn’t fancy me. What can you do?”

***

Noah paused the recording on her resigned smile. Gen never once let on that she liked him. Not in the villa, not out of it. He shook his head. _This was only the first day_ , he rationalised, _it’s just Gen._

[Ding]

Noah reached for his phone, grinned widely at the message and typed out an eager reply.

  
  


He had been looking forward to seeing his friends for weeks. Bobby and Gen were the only islanders who had reached out after Hope had unceremoniously dumped him. He was disappointed to have lost touch with most of his housemates, but without Instagram and Twitter, he couldn’t keep up with most of them.

Noah deleted his social media accounts only four days after leaving the villa. Having over a million followers felt too… _invasive._ These people had seen some of his most intimate moments and made memes out of them. It made him want to shut off from the world. So he just stopped engaging. He refused all interviews, blocked everyone that wasn’t in his contacts, and went back to his old job at his local library. All the money in the world wasn’t worth losing his privacy for. It was something Hope never understood.

Noah shook his head clear of the whispers of Hope, and focused his attention back on his TV.

***

The afternoon sun was beating down over the ten islanders, who were lounging on the bean bags making small talk.

Rocco nudged Genevieve with his toe, “Lottie said you’re in a band?”

Noah noticed he was sitting closer to her than his own partner.

Bobby’s eyes widened in surprise. “No way! What do you play?”

Genevieve smiled cheekily at her partner. “The girls already know. Have a guess,” she challenged.

Lottie laughed, “You’ll never get it, boys.”

“Piano?” Rahim offered.

“Nah, too obvious. French Horn?” Bobby mimed blowing into an imaginary instrument, earning him some sniggers from the girls.

Gary scoffed, “What?! Mate, Genevieve is definitely in a girl group.”

“My God,” Marisol giggled, “you are so far off the mark!”

Genevieve grinned. “I’m a drummer. We play rock, kind of an alt-metal, post-hardcore blend.”

The group sat in a stunned silence before Gary’s laugh boomed through the air.

“Nice one,” he chuckled, “I almost believed you.”

Genevieve’s eyes narrowed at him. “It’s true.”

Gary waved his hands up and down her body. “Oh please. You’re dressed like an _It Girl_ , no weird tats or piercings in dodgy places.” He jabbed a thumb at Lottie, “If _she_ said it I’d believe her.”

Lottie spluttered on her drink but Gary didn’t notice, “And you’re way too little to hit hard enough –“

The collective sharp intake of breath stopped Gary short. He looked around nervously and caught Genevieve’s raised eyebrow.

“I think that’s enough casual sexism for today.” She stood quickly and stalked off to the pool, before calling over her shoulder, “Anyone fancy a swim?”

Bobby jumped up and followed, seemingly eager to be alone with Genevieve.

“Weird tattoos and dodgy piercings?” Lottie hissed.

Gary had, at least, the good grace to look contrite.

[Oh dear! It looks like Gary’s landed himself in a whole _LOTTIE_ trouble! The puns will get better, I promise. Tune in tomorrow to see who’s head turns with ONE. HOT. BOMBSHELL.]

***

Noah picked up his phone again and hurriedly typed a message to Gen.

_“Did you actually like me first? Do you still?”_

His thumb hovered over _Send_ for a moment, wishing his low self esteem away. Willing himself to be bold.

_Of course she doesn’t like me like that. Not now. She’s with Lucas._

Noah felt lighter than he had in months. Filled with a new, nervous energy, he pressed play on the second episode, intent on finishing the series before next weekend.


	2. Corona Borealis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noah watches the relationship develop between Bobby and Gen on screen.

Bobby shifted his body closer to Genevieve on the day bed. He looked hesitant, but wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He leaned into her wild curls and whispered, “I’m so glad we coupled up.”

She looked up at him and brushed the tip of her nose softly against his cheek. Her eyes, bright with excitement, focussed on Bobby’s lips.

His earnest smile widened, “Wow. That’s… very cool.”

***

Noah fast forwarded to the next scene as he saw his friends lean in towards each other on screen. He knew they had kissed in the challenges, but watching them alone, sharing a such private moment, felt unsettling.

In the villa, most couples flaunted their relationships. If any sneaky kisses happened, the whole group heard about it soon enough.

So why did no one mention how _affectionate_ Bobby and Gen were with each other before Lucas came along?

***

“Right guys,” said Rahim over breakfast. “Now that it’s just us, who would you rather be with?”

The girls were busy getting ready for the day, this was the perfect opportunity to discuss their options.

Bobby eyes twinkled. “Genevieve is pretty cool,” he remarked, hiding a private smile behind a piece of toast.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Noah. “You’re grinning like the Cheshire Cat, Bobby. Did you get up to something last night?”

“Nope,” Bobby said casually. “But there’s no one else here I fancy more.”

“Really? I thought you’d go for Priya.” Rahim looked puzzled.

Bobby cocked his eyebrow. “Why? Are you after my lass already?”

“N..no! I just thought Priya was kinda goofy. She might be more your type.”

“She’s not,” Bobby rebuked, dropping his toast back to the plate.

“Genevieve’s the fittest girl here,” Gary said, shovelling more scrambled egg into his mouth, oblivious to the trace of tension across the table. “No wonder he doesn’t wanna switch.”

There were murmurs of agreement amongst the group. Noah began nodding his head emphatically, but caught himself and checked to see if the others had noticed.

A slight smile tugged at the corners of Bobby’s mouth as Noah dropped his eyes back on to his breakfast.

“It looks like you all have the horn for Genevieve,” he said slowly. “What a shame for you lads that she picked me.”

Gary chortled and clapped him on the back, “All right Romeo. No need to gloat.”

The conversation was abandoned when they heard the girls laughter carrying across the lawn, as they came to join the group for breakfast.

***

“So...Paisley Cuddle?” Genevieve smirked. They lay on the sun loungers next to one another, fingers almost touching. “Why didn’t you say yesterday?”

Bobby rolled onto his side to face her, resting his cheek on his hand. “Ah we were just kids,” he dismissed. “I was more interested in hearing about your band but then… well, Gary happened.”

“Yeah, he’s a little prejudiced,” she giggled, rolling her eyes. “But I’m sure the girls can knock that out of him this summer.”

“Knock what out of who?” Hope called out as she and Noah swam up to the edge and pulled themselves up onto the coping.

Bobby waved her off. “Never mind that! What’s your band called? Do you have one of those insane metal logos where you can’t read the name?”

“You’re wicked,” she laughed, but her eyes crinkled with affection, as Bobby linked his little finger with hers.

“The Northern Crown. Our logo is just this…” she drew what looked like a wonky smile in the air with her other hand.

Noah’s face lit up with a sudden understanding, “Like Corona Borealis?”

Genevieve blinked, lips slightly parted in a silent ‘ _Oh’_.

“You know your constellations,” she nodded appreciatively. “No one’s ever actually got that before. Most people assume it’s because we’re from Yorkshire.”

Noah gave a broad smile in return, relieved to have a conversation about anything other than who Priya might pick that evening.

“What’s the rest of your band doing while you’re here?” Bobby wondered.

Genevieve shifted uncomfortably. “Actually, we’re kind of on a break right now. Our lead vocalist… well, he left. He’s my ex, and when we split we thought we could keep it friendly. I mean. We grew up together, so…”

She shook her head, suddenly aware of her rambling.

“I’m sorry. This isn’t what you guys want to hear.”

Bobby squeezed her little finger gently, “No, go on. I want to know.”

Genevieve still looked hesitant, but when he and Noah offered her encouraging smiles, she took a shaky breath.

“Danny and I ended up with the same foster family when we were like, nine. They were the ones who got us into music. We went to the same college, met the rest of the guys. Started the band. We found ourselves a tiny cottage on a farm in the middle of nowhere.” She sighed sadly, and played with the delicate star necklace resting on her clavicle.

“No one wanted it because the dairy shed was literally next door, so the rent was dirt cheap,” Genevieve barked a laugh, but her eyes shone with tears at memory. “Can you imagine? Five angsty teenagers playing Slipknot covers to no one but the cows at the back of the garden.”

“It was so easy for a long time. I mean, we already lived together so when we started dating he just moved his stuff into my room. But a few years in he was going out more… and drinking a _lot_. After gigs he’d stay behind and flirt with random girls. I don’t think he actually cheated, but the disrespect was enough.”

“Damn,” Bobby breathed. “That really sucks.”

“I’ve talked too much, let’s change the subject,” she said with conviction, closing her dampened eyes. 

“Yes please!” Hope moaned. “That was a _fascinating_ story, girl. But it really shat all over my good mood.”

***

On the TV screen, Bobby’s thumb was stroking Gen’s consolingly. He absentmindedly turned her hand over in his and began tracing the lines on her palm. Gen looked over at him through her lashes and blew a subtle, almost unnoticeable kiss.

Noah tilted his head, watching intently. Everyone knew Bobby had a crush on Gen, but was Noah the only one who didn’t see that it was actually reciprocated?

***

_Bobby, how are you feeling about Genevieve?_

“She’s cool, easy to talk to. And she’s so fucking cute,” he sighed contentedly. “I didn’t think I would like someone this much so quickly.”

_And what did think of your kiss last night?_

Bobby blushed hard, but his face beamed. “I liked that she made the first move. I find it really hard to tell a girl when I like her, so when she kissed me first it kinda took the pressure off.”

***

_Genevieve_ , _are you still happy being coupled up with Bobby?_

“Yeah definitely. He’s sweet but a bit cheeky too… Like, he made me a cup of tea earlier but he took the first sip.” Genevieve giggled. “I like that about him.”

Her eyes flickered down away from the camera, as she leant back in the chair, fiddling with her necklace again.

“I’m just not sure if he’s that into me. I was the one who went for it in the challenge, I initiated the kiss last night, _and_ I was the one who cuddled up to him in bed,” she frowned. “Am I pushing something that isn’t there for him?”

After a pause, she looks into the camera. “What if it’s just me that feels something?”

***

_How did I miss all of this?_

It felt disconcerting watching their relationship develop in this way, knowing they didn’t end up together. Noah scowled as he remembered the way Lucas spoke to Gen in public. The loaded comments about the way she ate, and how he refused to kiss her first in the morning, or after meals. Lucas only ever dimmed her light.

It was obvious Bobby was a better match for Gen. When they were together her face was radiant as they talked about nothing and _everything_. He drew her out of her own mind. If Noah had known how she felt about Bobby, he would have encouraged them to go for it. She shined so bright in his presence.

Noah reached for his phone again.

_Jesus, how far did they go?_


	3. The Spotter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noah and Gen spend some time getting to know each other in the gym.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This really is a slow burn, guys. I have loads written for post-villa scenes, but there’s still a lot of in-villa content to be rectified to fit my narrative. Please bear with me! 
> 
> If you enjoy reading please let me know, and if there’s anything you want to see happen, feel free to leave a comment!<3

The Spotter

_  
Priya, Bobby picked Genevieve at tonight’s recoupling. How do you feel about that?_

“Well, I got Rahim without upsetting anyone, so it’s totally fine. When I went to bed last night Bobby said he’d be choosing her the next chance he got,” she laughed softly. “He’s like a puppy, you can’t be mad at him.”

Priya took a deep breath. “If I’m being honest, I think I only chose Bobby _because_ of Genevieve. I had to pick someone right?! She had every right to be upset, but she was a real class act.”

_What do you mean?_

“Think about it. If I chose Noah or Rocco, I’d have been public enemy number one. Marisol and Hannah were already fighting over Gary, so I didn’t wanna get caught up in all _that_. Genevieve seemed like she’d be the most chill. I was right.”

Priya sat back, seemingly pleased with herself.

With a mirthless smile she said, “I suppose it didn’t stop Lottie being so salty, but better someone else’s man than hers.”

***

A shadow cast over Genevieve’s face as she dozed peacefully on a sun lounger. She stirred, lifted her cat-eye sunglasses up and smiled uncertainly at the silhouette stood over her.

“I’d like a word about earlier.” Hope barked.

“Uhm. Sure...” Genevieve said, as she pulled herself up. “Is this about the slime challenge again?”

“Yes!” Hope jut out her bottom jaw, exasperated. “Gary was red too. You didn’t _need_ to go for Noah!”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Hope!” Genevieve snapped. “I had to grind on _someone_. I didn’t go for Gary because he keeps flirting with me. Noah is so into you he won’t look at any other girl. He was the only safe option!”

Hope looked taken aback. “So, you’re saying you don’t fancy him? You don’t think he’s hot?”

“Of course he’s hot,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But that doesn’t mean I’m trying to turn his head. I’m not about that.”

Visibly deflated, Hope huffed as she turned to go.

“You need to relax, love.” Genevieve said flatly, pulling her sunglasses back down. “It’s day four.”

“Stay away from him.”

***

Noah almost laughed. He knew Hope was territorial but this was so over the top. Why was she gunning for an argument over a challenge? They were designed to cause friction amongst the group, anyone could see that.

_Mental note: never wake Gen up from a nap._

***

Genevieve’s back was turned as she loaded the barbell by herself as Noah walked up to the gym.

“Don’t you need a spotter?”

“Shit!” she gasped. The heavy weight clanged to the floor missing her foot by an inch. “Noah! We should put a bell on you!”

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. He picked up the weight with ease and loaded it for her. “Do you though? Need a spotter?”

Genevieve looked uncertain. Biting her lip, she cast her eyes up towards the roof terrace where Lottie and Hope were chatting.

“I thought I’d go ask Rahim.”

“Really? Not Bobby?”

Genevieve raised her eyebrow. “The only time I’ve seen Bobby use this gym is when he was doing an impression of Tarzan. Rahim is the gym buff.”

With a look of mock disgust, Noah said, “Rahim doesn’t even wipe down the bench.”

“Eurgh,” she laughed. “That’s just bad etiquette!”

“C’mon, I’m here now. Let me help you.

She shrugged and settled down into position. Genevieve and Noah lifted weights together in a comfortable silence for a while, before moving on to an intense Hiit workout. Finally, they were both exhausted enough to take a break. They stretched out on the grass next to one another, flushed and breathless.

“I didn’t think I’d be able to keep up during that last set. You’re stronger than you look.”

Genevieve smiled with a shyness Noah hadn’t seen before. “I like surprising people,” she said quietly.

After a short pause, she turned to face him.

“Noah?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry about what I did in the challenge.”

Confusion crept across Noah’s face. “What did you do?”

“I… I thought I made you feel uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t. It was just a challenge.” He said, with conviction.

She avoided his eye, instead picking at blades of grass between her legs.

“Hey,” he said softly. “You had to pick someone. It’s no big deal.”

***

Noah caught his breath as he remembered that Gen _had_ made him feel uncomfortable. It’s not that he didn’t want her to choose him – he was just surprised by how much he enjoyed it. How much he relished the thrill of her body slipping across his.

He didn’t expect her to have cared about his feelings.

Seeing Gen acting so shy and uncertain after the challenge made him loosen his grip on his judgement of her. The mental picture of the cocky party girl he thought he had met on day one began to dissipate. 

This was the moment he started to see Gen as a girl he could have a real friendship with.

***

Genevieve gave him a wobbly smile.

“Thank you for saying that. I know it upset Hope and I’m pretty sure I made it worse when she tried to talk earlier,” she pressed her fingers to her temples. “I was just so wound up.”

“I really wanted to meet some decent girls when I signed up for this,” she went on. “I’ve lived with four guys for the past six years and they’re my whole world. When Danny and I split it’s like we broke up our family. We never wanted the boys to take sides, and they didn’t really, but there was so much tension before Danny moved out and quit.”

The tears in her eyes started spilling over and Noah instinctively reached his arm around her. She sank into his comforting embrace. They weren’t close friends yet, but she was a person... and she was in pain.

“Coming here was really about making new friends for me,” she confessed. “I mean, if I meet a man that I really like then that would be like the cherry on top. But I thought, if I had some close girlfriends, then maybe the consequences could be worth it. Y’know?”

“The consequences?”

“Yeah. The fame, all the exposure of being on TV.” She shudders. “I just wish I knew how to be around other women.”

“Me too.”

She laughed then, wiping away the silent tears from her cheeks. “Noah, _you_ are doing just fine.”

“Thanks,” he grinned. “I know I’m not a girl...”

“Yes, Captain Obvious?” Genevieve interrupted.

“Let me finish!” Noah chuckled, prodding her shoulder. “I’m not a girl, but I will be your friend. If you’ll have me.”

“Okay,” Genevieve started slowly, but her face lit up when she grinned at him. “I’ll take what I can get.”

“You _look_ happy,” Noah teased. “But you could sound a bit more enthusiastic.”

Genevieve giggled softly as she peeled away from their sticky, one-armed hug. She jumped up with surprising energy, and started to walk off.

“I’ll work on it,” she called over her shoulder. “But right now, I need to shower off this workout.”

***

Noah loved that Gen was so open about her emotions. The Noah on-screen was only just starting to notice her qualities, the not-so-hidden depths that he now knew so well. It was strange to watch.

That easy way she had... well, it’s the way Noah had always wanted to be.

***

“What do you make of that?” Hope said, watching Noah and Genevieve from the roof terrace.

Lottie was sunning herself on the bench, and she grunted as she lazily pulled herself up to peek over the edge.

“They just look like they’re working out to me.” Lottie shrugged, disinterested.

“I don’t trust her,” Hope said, scowling at the pair.

Lottie rolled her eyes at the back of Hope’s head. “Genevieve said on the first day that she was all about putting the girls first. She seems like the kind who means what she says.”

Hope didn’t reply. Her eyes flamed with anger as Noah and Genevieve moved to sit next to each other.

***

The rest of the episode focused mainly on the explosive argument between Priya and Lottie. Noah had already seen enough of this disaster the first time around, so he sat with the recording playing at three times the speed.

The final frames were in black and white, the cameras in night mode, fixed on the couples in bed together. Most of them were asleep, but Bobby and Genevieve were whispering in low voices, their words undetected by the microphones on their bedside table.

He was stroking her cheek tenderly with his thumb, and she moved slowly to meet his lips with a soft kiss. As she pulled Bobby closer, the cameras cut to black.


	4. Oh, Honey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You girls look cosy,” Lucas grinned, his dark eyes fixed on Gen’s. “May I join you?”
> 
> She said nothing, but the corners of her mouth briefly turned upwards, cheeks still glowing pink. 
> 
> “I’ll take that as a yes,” Lucas’ grin didn’t falter as he slipped under the duvet next to her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment :) Let me know where you think this should go...

Oh, Honey

The day after Lucas and Henrik arrived in the villa, Bobby organised a diving competition between the boys. The girls had scattered across the garden, away from the splash zone.

“I don’t know what to do, Pri,” sighed Genevieve, curling up like a cat on the daybed. 

Priya clambered under the covers next to her friend. “Okay. Is this about Lucas or Henrik?”

“Lucas. And Bobby.” Genevieve said, as she nestled her head on Priya’s shoulder. 

“Well Lucas is _obviously_ into you.” 

“Yeah. I like that he’s been so direct, and he’s definitely the type I normally go for,” she bit her lip. “But Bobby has been like a breath of fresh air. He says all the right things when we’re alone…”

“But…” Priya prompted, with a quizzical look.

“But he doesn’t show that he really likes me to anyone else, and he waits for me to make the first move _all the time_. I can’t work him out. Is he just shy, or am I just a placeholder for someone he really fancies?” Genevieve wondered, with doubt in her eyes. 

“Oh honey,” Priya wrapped up the smaller girl in a warm hug, and said firmly, “You are no one's placeholder.”

“Thanks, love.” 

They sat quietly together, watching the boys compete from a safe distance. Lucas caught Genevieve’s eye and winked. She flushed a deep red, and glanced at Priya to see if she noticed. Her friend just stared straight ahead, attempting to stifle a small smile. 

“Don’t look now, but he’s coming over,” Priya said quietly, barely moving her lips. “Fuck me, girl. That boy looks so hot when he’s all wet.”

“You have to teach me how to talk like that!” Genevieve’s face crinkled with laughter. “I always wanted to try ventriloquism!” She mimed holding up a puppet in the air. 

“Stop that! You look like a nutter!”

“You girls look cosy,” Lucas grinned, his dark eyes fixed on Gen’s. “May I join you?”

She said nothing, but the corners of her mouth briefly turned upwards, cheeks still glowing pink. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Lucas’ grin didn’t falter as he slipped under the duvet next to her.   
Genevieve looked up at him with ardent, burning eyes when his arm snaked around her waist. 

“Forgive me, but I’m not _quite_ ready for a ménage a trois,” Priya tittered, as she clambered out of the daybed. “I’ll excuse myself while you two make sex eyes at each other.” 

It didn’t seem like they heard her. Genevieve and Lucas remained pressed up close to one another, despite Priya leaving nearly half of the bed empty. 

“I really enjoyed our date yesterday.” Lucas said, as he ran a single finger down her forearm. 

“Me too,” Gen breathed softly. 

“Do you think you’d want to see where this could go?” Lucas moved his face closer to hers, his voice low and ragged. 

Genevieve visibly stiffened and shifted away from him. “I’m with Bobby right now. I won’t be making any decisions like that yet. I like him, too.”

Lucas sat back, dejected, a look of mild annoyance flashed across his face. Just as quickly, it settled into a soft smile. “All I really got from that was an implication that you like me.”

Genevieve delicately extracted herself from his grip on her waist, threw off the covers and climbed out of the daybed.

“I might,” she said, with a sultry wink. “But it has only been two days.” 

As she stepped away, she saw Bobby in the pool, watching them steadily. Before turning away, he smiled with a kindness that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

***

“Fuuuuuck.” Genevieve covered her face with her hands in the privacy of the bathroom. “I’m so confused!”

“Alright,” said Marisol, in her sternest voice. “Time to spill.”

“Lucas,” Genevieve moaned. She paused, casting her eyes downward, picking at a loose thread on her bikini. “He just came over, making these _eyes_ at me.” 

She demonstrated on Marisol, whose cheeks reddened in an instant. 

“I can’t help but flirt with that boy,” she admitted. “I caught Bobby watching us, but he just smiled at me like it was nothing. Like, I _know_ he’s not the jealous type, but I’m wondering if he would even be bothered if we weren’t coupled up.”

Marisol remained silent, tapping her chin. 

“I’m really struggling to ignore the chemistry I have with Lucas. I get nervous with him, but in such a good way,” Gen continued. “I’m happy with Bobby though. I don’t want to throw away what could be a really fun relationship for what’s basically just lust.”

“For what it’s worth, I think Bobby is genuinely into you,” Marisol said with encouragement. “He said he’s been hurt before. He might just be protecting himself.” 

“Maybe,” Gen blew her hair out of her eyes, frowning, “I just hate not knowing.”

***

“Why don’t you say something to him?” Gary nodded towards Lucas.

“What can I say?” Bobby asked. “Back off my lass? We’ve only been here six days, pal. She can flirt with whoever she likes.”

“I dunno, mate. She’ll go for it with him if you don’t pull your finger out your arse.”

Bobby chanced another glance over at Lucas, who was busy flexing in the gym, no doubt performing for the girls. Genevieve had disappeared into the villa with Marisol a few minutes earlier. 

“I can’t compete with him,” Bobby shrugged. “I’d rather just be myself and she can decide who she likes best.”

Gary raised his eyebrows at the Scot, but stopped himself from saying whatever it was that he was thinking. 

***

Noah paused the recording when Gen’s name flashed on his phone. 

_Shit. She’s FaceTiming me. Shit! It’s 11am and I’m not even dressed._

Noah brushed his hair with his fingers and sniffed under his arms in panic.

_What are you doing? She can’t smell you! Answer the phone!_

“Gen! Hey!” he said, a little too sharply. 

“Hiya love!” Gen sing-songed in a croaky voice. “I’ve missed you!”

“You too!” Noah said. “Excuse my pyjamas. I’m having a lazy day.” 

With a wide smile, she said, “I’m in my jammies too.” 

The camera flipped over and she cast it down her body, showing off baggy tartan pyjamas. 

It looked like she was in a hotel room. A nice one. 

Noah chortled, and quipped, “That’s really hot, Gen.”

“Be nice please. I’ve got a massive hangover.”

He had always liked the way Gen looked when she had just woken up. Her soft curls tousled, falling over her dark brown eyes.

“Where are you by the way? It looks posh.”

“I’m at The Goring. In Westminster,” her mouth twisted in displeasure, contorting her pretty face. “Lucas booked it for some interview we were supposed to do today, but it fell through. Can I come over, I’ll bring lunch?”

“Uhm…” Noah glanced around his living room. It was far too messy to invite her back to his flat. He hadn’t had the motivation to do anything but wash the dishes in a while. The laundry basket was overflowing, and the empty takeaway boxes were stacking up. Gen was meticulously tidy. It would be too embarrassing. 

“Please Noah?” Gen gave him mock puppy dog eyes. “You’re the only person I like within an hour's drive of this bloody city.”

“Is Lucas coming?” Noah said carefully, trying to hide his dislike of her boyfriend.

“No…” Gen’s face fell. “We had a fight last night. He went back to Oxford.” 

“Oh. That sucks,” he replied, feigning disappointment. 

“Yep,” she said, twisting her hair around her fingers. “Can we do lunch then? I don’t like eating alone.”

“Alright, but let’s go out. Where shall we meet?”

“Can you choose? I don’t know anywhere decent this far south,” she thought for a moment. “No fancy restaurants with tiny portions though. I need something with substance to get me through today.”

“No problem. I’ll text you when I decide.”

She smiled sleepily at him, showing her dimples. 

_Christ, she’s so fucking cute._

“I’d best get ready if I’ve gotta get there in time for lunch.” he said, quietly. 

“Me too,” she sighed, rolling off the bed. “Can’t wait!” She blew him a kiss, and hung up the call without another word. 

Noah sat still for a moment, trying to work out his own thoughts. In the villa and for the first few months after he had been fully committed to Hope, but there had been a few fleeting moments when he felt a surge of attraction towards Gen. 

Those moments were always pushed far away, out of sight, so they spoke only to the quietest part of him. It was only since he started watching the show that he began to unlock his feelings for her. 

_You can’t like her. She’s with Lucas._


	5. Safe Zone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He’ll be fine,” Noah says with reassurance. “His ego might be a bit bruised… but he loves you.”
> 
> Despite herself, Gen smiles at him, eyes shining. She knew Noah didn’t have any time for Lucas, maybe even disliked him, but he never had anything but encouragement for their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness on this chapter. There’s a lot going on IRL due to the virus that must not be named, and let’s face it, there is no rest for the wicked. That’s me, I’m the wicked.
> 
> Also, I can’t upload the text screenshots for some reason. Soooo frustrating, so I’ve just typed the shortened general gist. Apologies for lack of format continuity.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy chapter 5! Please leave a comment to let me know what you think ❤️

Safe Zone

  
Gen analyses her outfit, yet again, in the mirror of the lift. It was what she had planned to wear to the cinema last night, before Lucas suggested she ‘dress up a little more’. Her vintage Levi’s, oversized jumper and her favourite Dr Martens weren’t her boyfriend’s idea of date wear, even if they were only watching a film in a dark room.

What started as an offhand comment about her clothes rapidly escalated when Gen joked about his need for a trophy girlfriend. Why was her style such an issue to him now? Lucas had admitted to looking her up on Instagram as soon as the first lineup was announced. He knew how she dressed in her day to day life before they had even met. No one could be expected to go all out every single day just like they had done in the villa, where it was actively encouraged by staff. 

She turned again in the mirror. Her own doubtful eyes casting over her body.

_He’s right, this is too casual… I could run up and change if I’m quick._

Gen checks her watch, biting her lip. 

_Make up your bloody mind!_

Her belly makes a loud gurgle as her phone buzzes in her hand.

It’s Noah, letting her know he’ll arrive at Victoria station in ten minutes. 

Gen holds herself a little taller and applies another layer of cocoa lip balm. Her eyes look red, and tired from crying. She forces a smile at her own reflection before the lift dings and the doors open.

She hadn’t actually seen Noah in person since the reunion, a few weeks before he and Hope split up. In the villa, they were each other’s escape from the drudgery of non-stop drama. While Bobby enjoyed being the peacemaker, always trying to keep the mood light, she and Noah hid away and distracted themselves with talk of nonsense. 

They had been in touch but she regretted not visiting her friend in person more often. Even with FaceTime and several calls a week, there’s only so much that can be said. It’s the little things you share with a person that keeps you close. Gen just wished she wasn’t meeting him with the worst hangover she’d had in months. 

She steps out of the lobby pulling her sunglasses down low over her eyes and sets off in the direction of Victoria station. Not even a minute into walking down the packed street, people start pointing, a few phones angled in her direction. Being in the public eye certainly had its drawbacks, and trying to go unnoticed in a large city was certainly one of them. 

Whenever Gen came to London, she longed to be back in her sleepy seaside village. Most of the villagers already knew her before she went on Love Island. They weren’t interested in taking sneaky photos or interrupting her meal for a selfie. The weight lifted off her whenever she went home. Every time.

The brisk Autumn air had blown away some of the cobwebs from the night before, but now she was desperate for a cup of tea. As she nears the station she makes a beeline for the nearest cafe and joins the queue, keeping her head down low.

“What’ll it be, treasure?” Calls the man behind the counter, his jarring cockney accent pulling Gen’s attention away from her phone.

“Two teas please.”

“English, Earl Grey, Chai, or any of these herbal ones?” he recites in a bored voice, tapping the board next to the till.

“Oh, English.”

“That’s five-twenty.”

_Ugh, this fucking city is so expensive._

The young man catches her frown and grins. 

“Welcome to London.” he says. His smile reminded her of Bobby’s. Mischievous. 

There was a table to her left where she added her milk and sugar, just milk for Noah’s; when she hears a familiar voice. 

“Two English breakfast teas please.”

She spins around and sees him standing at the counter, digging his wallet out from his pocket. 

“Noah!” 

He hesitantly looks up, like he’s expecting someone else, but when he sees her his face splits into the warmest smile. Without saying a word he strides over and picks her up in a bear hug. She feels him smiling into her shoulder as she squeals. 

“Put me down, boy,” Gen laughs. “I’m feeling far too rough for this!” 

Noah gently sets her back down on the ground. 

“You’ve got no sympathy from me,” he cups her chin. “Especially as it was self inflicted.”

She caught his eyes roaming over her outfit, his expression yet again unreadable. Self-consciousness washed over her like a wave and she dropped her eyes to her feet. Does he think the same as Lucas? 

“Oi, mate! You want your drinks or what?” came a shout from behind the counter.

“No thanks, I’ve got his!” Gen answers before Noah can respond.

The man nods, but pauses and does a double take. 

_He knows… time to go._

As his eyes widens with realisation, she shoves Noah’s tea in one hand and winds her fingers tight around his, pulling him out the door before they could be dragged into the inevitable ‘are you…’ conversation. Together they run out of the cafe, hands still clasped together, her infectious giggle eliciting an uncertain laugh from him. 

It suddenly struck her just how much more handsome he was in person. How when the light struck his face, just so, she could see the golden flecks in his eyes. She had always harboured a small crush on Noah. He had never shown any interest in her, and in a way that had made her friendship with him all the sweeter. She need never be concerned with hidden motives on his part. They would never hurt each other, the way she and Bobby had. 

“It’s so good to see you, Gen.” 

He pulls her into another hug. Gentler, slower, than before. He holds her against his chest and Gen hooks one arm around his waist. She looks up at him and then closes her eyes, sighing happily. Noah releases her slowly, and holds out his arm for her to take. 

“C’mon, it’s a twenty minute walk,” Noah says. “Thai food okay?”

“Yes! It’s my favourite!” Gen grins. 

“I remember you saying.” A trace of pink creeps across Noah’s cheeks, but in moments it’s gone. They walk together in contented silence, sipping their tea. 

In the restaurant twenty minutes later, Gen felt the relief pour out of her when their waitress looked completely disinterested in their arrival. They might even be able to eat in peace. She brought their drinks - a red wine for Noah and a coffee for Gen - and she quickly disappeared.

“Sure you don’t want a drink?” Noah teases, offering her a sip from his glass.

“Oh don’t,” she replies, burying her face in her hands. “I just need a big lunch and I’ll be right as rain.” 

“Were you at a party last night?” Noah looks at her, puzzled. “I thought you weren’t a big drinker.”

“No, no party.” Gen peeks at him through her fingers. “It was just me and a few cocktails in my room.”

“Before or after your fight?”

“Wow, Noah!” Gen barks a laugh. “You’re jumping straight in. No small talk first?”

Noah smiles back at her. “We don’t do small talk.”

Gen looks up at him through her lashes. “No… No, I suppose we don’t.”

He waits for her to speak. She sits back, slumping her shoulders, delicate hands cradling her warm cup. The night before felt like a distant memory. Her refusal to engage in a shouting match only worsened Lucas’ temper. She shut down. Lucas left. 

“It was so stupid,” Gen breathes. “We were supposed to go and see a film, but when I walked out the bathroom wearing this,” she waved a hand over her outfit. “He basically said I should make more of an effort.”

Noah rolls his eyes. “Dick move.”

“I get it, like, he really loves it when I glam up,” her expression twisted. “But this was supposed to be a chilled night for us. I don’t want to wear makeup and heels and tiny bloody dresses every night. We’re not on telly anymore, I don’t wanna do that for every date.”

She resented the way they were encouraged to go all out every single night on Love Island. It didn’t seem so bad at first, but most of the time they were just lazing around in the garden, being directed from one repetitive conversation to the next. 

When she started digging out a pair of jeans and sandals to wear instead of a revealing dress, she’d not only get snide comments from the girls, but from the producers as well. They would pull her into the beach hut and remind her of the deals with the show’s sponsors, and how she was expected to dress. The public _wanted_ to see what she would wear every night. It seemed Lucas had stupidly expected that to carry over into their lives outside the villa. It was disheartening. 

Noah watches her steadily. Finding the words became a struggle as she straightened the cutlery in front of her. Silence fills the air around them.

“I don’t know how it got so big. He got really wound up when I wouldn’t change, and then I tried to make a joke and he just _went off._ Like, he started going on about how I was refusing to move in with him and all this shit abou-” Gen caught Noah’s surprised expression. “What?”

“Err, nothing… I just thought you’d wait a little longer.”

Gen sighs. “Well yeah, so did I. Living together in the villa was… it’s, it’s gonna be different doing it for real.” 

Noah nods, stoically. 

“He wants me to move to Oxford. He won’t even consider moving in with me. I can’t just move four hours down the country without it affecting other people’s lives. I’ve got obligations.”

“Your band?”

“Among other things. It’s more to do w-”

She almost told him, but they were interrupted by the waitress to take their order. There were some things about her life she just wasn’t ready to share with her friends from the villa. It was too soon. The pitying looks on peoples faces when they found out were more than she could bear. Lucas knew, of course, but he didn’t seem to understand why she felt so tied to her home.

  
Noah has an almost questioning look on his face, like he wants to ask what she means. But Gen clamps her mouth shut, so tight her full lips become the thinnest line. She’s not ready to share this with him. Not yet.

“What happened next?” he asks, when the waitress slipped away again.

“I made a stupid joke,” Gen says with a small voice. “I said he should have picked Priya if he wanted a trophy on his arm. He hates it when I take the piss.”

“And then he left?”

She gave a stiff nod. “I rang a few times this morning to apologise, but he didn’t answer.”

“He’ll be fine,” Noah says with reassurance. “His ego might be a bit bruised… but he loves you.”

Despite herself, Gen smiles at him, eyes shining. She knew Noah didn’t have any time for Lucas, maybe even disliked him, but he never had anything but encouragement for their relationship. 

“I thought it would be easy. We’re the same in so many ways.”

“You’re both perfectionists, that's for sure.” Noah jokes.

“Yeah, we are. But maybe our _ideas_ of perfection are too different,” she takes a long swig of her coffee. “I love Lucas so much, but I don’t feel good enough for him sometimes, like he’s just settled for me.”

“He’s lucky to have you. If anything, you’re too good for him.” Noah takes her hand and squeezes it reassuringly. “And you look stunning whatever you wear.” 

Gen smiles back at her friend, with sadness in her eyes. “Can we talk about something else now?”

“Sure,” he leans back in his chair. “Tell me about the gig this weekend?”

Gen’s eyes flash with excitement and she grins widely. “It’s jukebox night. On the door, people pick a number out of a bucket, like at a raffle, you know?”

Noah nods, and she goes on. “People with numbers ending in five or zero get to pick a song from a list that the band can play. The band is kept secret, and it’s all cover songs, so you could end up with anything from Dolly Parton, to Tupac, to Bring Me The Horizon.”

“That sounds like chaos!” 

“It is, but that’s part of the fun.” 

Their food arrives at their table, and the pair eat quietly, enjoying the easy company. Noah’s phone buzzes a few times, and a rush of affection hits Gen, privately impressed that he didn’t reach for it. She always keeps hers in her bag, under the table and away from temptation. 

_His mum brought him up well._

“Where are you staying after the show?” Noah asks, breaking the silence.

“We haven’t decided yet, I’ll book somewhere tonight. Are there any hotels by your place?” Gen says thoughtfully, spearing a green bean with her fork. 

“Why don’t you stay at mine?” Noah gingerly watches her. 

As her eyes flicker up to meet his across the table, he looks down, embarrassed. She blinks. “You’re finally gonna let me visit?” 

“I didn’t _not_ let you visit. Hope was… well, you know how she was.” Noah has that almost blush on his cheeks again. “You and Lucas can have my room. Bobby can have Gabe’s now that he’s at uni, I’ll sleep on the sofa.” He speaks quickly, quietly, and all of a sudden he looks _so_ young. 

“I doubt Lucas will come. And Bobby’s planning an all nighter with Lottie after.” 

Noah raises his eyebrows. “Oh, err… I didn’t rea-”

“Nothing like that, eurgh! Honestly, what’s going on in your mind?” Gen laughs, covering her mouth with her hand. “They’re scoping out the competition for her cocktail bar. He’ll be written off on Sunday.”

The corners of Noah’s mouth turn up slightly, his gaze fixed on his empty plate. “Just us then.”

Gen tilts her head at him. “Yeah alright, but I’ll take Gabe’s room,” she smirks mischievously. “I bet he’s tidier than you, and it probably smells bett-”

Noah kicks her foot under the table. “I don’t smell!”

_You don’t. You smell like oranges. And an open fire, and winter, and home._

She nudges him back with her boot. “Maybe not all the time. But you are the messiest person I’ve ever lived with, bar none.”

“Damn, Gen. That hurt.” He clutches his chest in mock annoyance, screwing up his face to hide his amusement. 

Noah’s eyes shift past her face, towards the window. He stiffens. “Shit.” He says, under his breath.

Gen turns to follow his gaze, and momentarily she’s blinded by a flash. There’s two… no, three photographers outside, lenses pressed up against the window. The colour from her face drains. She stands and bumps the table with her hip, knocking over her coffee cup. Noah watches, almost bemused, as she turns her back to the cameras and hunches over the table, fussing over the now wet tablecloth. Her hands start to shake. Gen closes her eyes, wishing their onlookers away. Wishing she had her privacy and her anonymity back. She would cherish it like she never did before. 

When she opens her eyes again, it takes a minute for her to realise that Noah is no longer in his seat. Her eyes dart around the restaurant frantically, until they find him at the bar, talking to their waitress. Gen keeps her head down, letting her hair fall over her face as she gathers up their things and runs over to him. He has a tight smile fixed on his face when she hands him his jacket. 

“I’ve paid. They said we could go out the back, is that okay?”

Gen breathes a sigh of relief. “That is definitely okay!”

They dash out the back door and navigate the back streets, Noah leading the way until they come to a main road. They walk along in the opposite direction of the restaurant for a few minutes before a black cab rounds the corner, and Gen waves it down. 

“The Goring, please,” she tells the driver. Seeing Noah’s frown, she says, “I’m sorry, it happens nearly everywhere I go these days.” 

“No, it’s not that,” he replies hurriedly. “I mean, I hate it too. I… I just don’t think your hotel is exactly a safe zone.”

“I guess,” Gen twists a curl around her fingers, with uncertainty on her face. “But I can’t think of anywhere else to go.”

“Me neither.” 

“It’ll be the same everywhere we hang out Noah,” she shrugs. “Let’s just go and watch some films and gorge ourselves on room service.”

Noah still looked hesitant. She bumps his arm with her shoulder and puts on her best puppy dog eyes. “Please love? I could do with a mate today.” 

A sort of mollified smile spreads across his face. “Fine. But I want to choose the first film.”

She beams at him. “Deal.”

  



	6. It Looks Like More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She looks at him with confusion etched across her pretty features. “You… you didn’t step forward.”
> 
> Don’t say it. Don’t fucking say it. 
> 
> “I should have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took me a while to get right, but I think we’re finally there. 
> 
> 😈 🍆 💦
> 
> Once again, it’s not letting me link images as I did in previous chapters, but when it’s sorted I’ll add them in. For now, I’ve just written text messages into the next easiest format. 
> 
> Let me know your thoughts, good, bad and ugly!  
> ❤️

It Looks Like More

  
Noah whistles through his teeth. “This place is insane.”

He’s still standing in the doorway of the living room, looking slowly around the suite in awe. It’s enormous, beautifully decorated, with deep velvet sofas and dark wood. It felt _regal_. 

“Yeah, I know,” Gen says, rubbing her eyes. She slumps into one of the sofas, hugging a cushion into her belly.

“You don’t like it?”

“I… I _do,_ ” she hesitates. “It’s just a bit much, like, it’s hard to get out of the ‘making ends meet’ mentality.” 

Noah crosses the room to sit next to her, he nudges her gently with his elbow. 

“That’s such a first world problem, Gen.”

Gen rolls her eyes at him, but she’s smiling. She pulls off her heavy Docs and kicks them out the way, before curling her legs underneath her and leans against Noah, resting her head on his shoulder. Almost instinctively, Noah breathes her in. She smells of Hawaii. Like coconut and the sea. 

_What are you doing?_

It takes him a moment to realise that he had been holding his breath. Noah wasn’t used to feeling like this in Gen’s company. It was normally so easy. Of course, there were moments. Fleeting… choked, moments. It was usually during a challenge that he felt the wind knock out of him, when she would look at him in a certain way. This was the same, but stronger.

She lets out an audible yawn, and sleepily says, “Pick something to watch then, love.”

Noah kicks off his shoes and reaches for the remote. He knew just what he wanted to watch. He selects the ITV hub logo, finding the search button. Gen, who was watching through one half-open eye, sits up straight when she realises that he’s searching for their season of Love Island. 

She swats at his wrist. “Noah, no fucking way.”

He smirks, now flicking through to find the episode he was on, “You said it was my choice.”

“I didn’t mean this!” Gen makes to grab the remote, but he’s quick like a cat, holding it out of reach with a long arm, “Come on! We’ve already seen it!” 

“I haven’t seen it, Ruiz!” He deflects her with his shoulder but she jumps up to pull on his elbow. She tries to bend it back over his head but in doing so, she opens herself up. Noah’s fingers are lightning fast, tickling her sides relentlessly, eliciting a high pitched squeal from her. 

Gen throws herself back and slips halfway off the sofa. Still tickling, he bursts out laughing.

“Ow! Please… merc-mercy!” Through giggles she pants, “Stop it… Noah - stop… it - STOP!”

“Okay, mercy.” Noah laughs, and reaches for her hand to pull her back to her seat. She grips tight and a sly smile spreads across her face, before she digs her toes in under his arm, wiggling them as hard as she can. “Argh, Gen!” 

Noah leaps back to the other side of the sofa, but she pulls herself up, ready to pounce. She dives, tickling under his arms as he clamps them tight against his sides. He yelps, and it’s so unlike him, Gen collapses backwards into giggles. 

They watch each other warily, out of breath, now sitting at opposite ends of the sofa. Noah nudges her toe with his and holds up his hands, his smile spread as wide as his eyes. 

“Truce?”

She nods. Noah grins with ease and spreads his long legs across the space between them. Gen scowls and tucks her feet up underneath her.

“No fair,” Gen pouts. “You take up so much room.”

“You’re just bitter because you stopped growing at eleven.”

She smiles at him with disdain and narrowed eyes. “Oh har har,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “A height joke, you’re so original.”

He grins his perfect grin, and she flops her own legs over his with force. “Oof, careful,” Noah laughs, lightly running his thumb down the sole of her foot. “Are you ticklish here too?”

Gen bares her teeth. “You said truce!” 

“Okay, okay!” Noah says, stifling a laugh and reaching for the remote again.

“You’ve really not seen our season yet?” Her voice is quiet, almost shy. 

“I started watching over the weekend,” he admits. “I’m on day six.”

Gen’s face flushes pink and she sinks back into the soft cushions. “So you saw when… when I said I fancied you.” 

“Well, yeah. But that first coupling was just based on looks, it’s not like you liked me the whole time?” Noah cringes as the words leave his mouth, he hadn’t meant it to sound like a question.

“Oh don’t worry,” she says playfully. “My little crush went out the window when I saw you only had eyes for Hope.” 

Noah’s eyes flew up to meet hers. “Is that so?” 

Gen shrugs. “I don’t chase boys who aren’t interested. Even the ones I really like. There’s no point if they aren’t even attracted to me.”

_What?_

“That’s what you thought?” he says incredulously. 

She looks at him with confusion etched across her pretty features. “You… you didn’t step forward.”

_Don’t say it. Don’t fucking say it._

“I should have.”

Gen’s lips open a little while his words hang heavy in the air. She fiddles with her necklace, shaking her head. Noah looks away, back to the TV screen, ignoring the heat rising up his neck. He can’t bear to look at her now. 

_Why didn’t I step forward?_

“Noah,” she starts slowly. “I…” 

She is cut short by a loud series of dings. One, after the other, after the other. _SOS_ by Rhianna starts playing, and concern flashes across Gen’s face. She jumps up to root through her bag. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“It’s Chelsea, she’s FaceTiming from her spare phone. It’s her emergency code.”

Noah laughs. “Of course it is.”

Gen rolls her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitch up. She answers the video call.

“Hey Chels! Is it a real emergency this time, or did you see another cute puppy?”

“Oh hun, it’s so real. I’ve been texting you all afternoon! Are you still with Noah?”

“Wha... how did y-”

“The _paps_ babe!” Chelsea squeals. “I was just, like, scrolling through insta and on like _every_ single gossip page is a pic of you two. There’s one of you guys hugging, and it looks, like, _more._ Y’know?”

Gen blanches. Chelsea reads the captions from her other phone. “Genevieve and Lucas cancel Vogue interview and cover shoot scheduled for the same day she’s spotted cosying up to fellow Islander Noah Seifu.”

“Fuck,” Gen’s lip wobbles. “Fuck.”

“Babes, Lucas stayed at ours last night. Henrik said he turned up at like three AM. I didn’t even know he was here until I woke up. What happened?” 

Gen ignores her friend’s question as tears start to fill her eyes. “Chelsea has he seen the photos yet?” 

The blonde looks shocked. “No… he’s still asleep. I think he drank a lot, cause my living room like _stinks_ of whiskey right now-”

“Can you keep it that way?” Gen drags her fingers through her hair. “Just until I can figure out what to say to him.”

Chelsea frowns. “I don’t think he’ll want any more whiskey.” 

“No, love,” Gen sighs. “Just keep him distracted so I can speak to him first.”

“I’m on it hun!” Chelsea nods, emphatically. “OMG, does this mean… You and Noah are li-”

“No! I called him to catch up,” she answers with exasperation. “It was just lunch!” 

“It’s cool babes, you don’t need to explain yourself to me.” Chelsea signs off with an air kiss, and they hang up.

She sinks to the floor, loading Instagram on her phone, frantically searching for the photos. Noah stays silent but moves to look over her shoulder. The pictures of the pair at lunch look as innocent as it was, but she finds the one Chelsea mentioned and it does… it looks like _more._

 _  
_Noah is holding her close against him. There’s no space between their bodies. His fingers splayed across her back. Gen’s arm is tightly wrapped around his waist and the other hand resting on his stomach, fingers under his unzipped jacket. Her face is against his chest, but they’re gazing at each other with the widest smiles and crinkled eyes. They look as if they were just about to kiss.

Noah’s heart drums hard in his chest. With a pang he is reminded of the photos in the archives at work of soldiers coming home, and their wives meeting them off the train. Sheer happiness and affection on their faces. It’s the same. 

Gen chokes back a sob. He pulls his eyes away from the photo to see that her face is pinched from the effort of holding back tears. 

“Hey,” he whispers, rubbing her shoulder. “It doesn’t look that bad.”

“Don’t lie,” her voice cracks. “He’ll think the worst.”

“Gen, he knows how much you love him.” 

“Lucas isn’t as confident as he pretends to be.” she says flatly.

Gen sniffs, and he realises that tears are flooding her face. Despite living together all summer he had never seen her cry like this. The tears fall freely from her cheeks while she sits there, still and hauntingly silent. Noah searches for words of reassurance but they don’t come. Instead he settles himself on the floor next to her, and pulls her into his embrace. 

“It’s okay,” he whispers, his voice low. “It’ll be okay.” He strokes her hair and she drops her head heavily onto his shoulder. They sit on the floor together in silence for hours, until the sound of her sniffing turns to soft snores, and her body sags into him. 

When he’s sure she’s asleep, he digs his phone out of his pocket and flicks through his notifications. 

  
His phone vibrates in his hand.

Noah picks up Gen’s phone, which was cast aside earlier. It’s dead. He quickly sends a reply to Chelsea.

Noah extracts his arm from around Gen, and shakes out the pins and needles creeping down his fingers. Gen’s head lolls against the sofa. And in this moment she looks so peaceful, so blissfully unaware, that he decides against waking her. He didn’t want to be the one bringing her back to reality, bringing back her pain. 

Noah scoops her up and carries her through to the bedroom. He sets her down gently, and makes his way back to the living room, closing the door behind him as quietly as he can. He leans against the closed door, sighing heavily.

_I shouldn’t have come here. The last thing either of us needs is more drama._

He finds his shoes and pulls them on, then hunts down Gen’s charger to plug in her phone. Noah starts rooting through the drawers of the desk for a pen and paper, to write her a note, when the sound of a door handle turning comes from behind him. He looks over his shoulder at the bedroom door expecting to see Gen, but it’s still closed.

_Shit._

“You’re still here,” comes a growl from behind him. 

Lucas stands in the open doorway, still dressed in his leathers, shoulders squared. He grips his helmet so tightly that his knuckles whiten.

“Where’s Genevieve?”

He follows Noah’s eyes to the bedroom door, and his expression visibly darkens. Through a clenched jaw he hisses, “are you fucking kidding me?”

“Jesus Christ, Lucas. Nothing happened!” Noah snaps back, frowning. “Do you really think she’d do that to you? She loves you.”

Lucas doesn’t answer. He breathes deeply, slowly. 

“Gen called me this morning. She was upset about your argument and hungover and just wanted to catch up.” Noah explains. “The paparazzi really freaked her out, so we came back here to watch a film-”

“Right,” Lucas interjects. “And you were just happy to oblige.”

“Of course I was, she’s one of my best friends.” Noah says with exasperation. 

Lucas scoffs and makes for the bedroom, but Noah blocks his path. Lucas glowers at the taller man, but exhales steadily, trying to keep his temper under control.

“I’m here to see _my_ girlfriend. Get out.” Lucas says hotly. His voice rumbles, loud and threatening, like thunder.

“Shh!” Noah whispers. “Gen’s asleep. She just spent the best part of two hours in tears over you.”

Lucas steps back, and his eyes cloud over. 

“Look,” Noah says. “Let her sleep, let's get a drink downstairs.”

Lucas looks like he wants to argue, but stops himself and nods with reluctance. He retrieves his bag, which was discarded at the open door. 

“I need to change,” he says with irritation. “I’ll meet you down there.”

**—**

“I got you a macchiato. Chelsea seemed to think you’d be off alcohol today.”

Lucas lowers himself onto the stool next to Noah at the bar.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

He had changed out of his bike leathers into a white shirt, black jeans and Chelsea boots. Despite its simplicity, Lucas always managed to make the most casual outfits look classier than other men did. Lucas sips at his coffee. The two men avoid looking at each other, and sit in silence for a few minutes, until Lucas barks, “Why did she call _you_?”

“Honestly, I think it’s because I’m one of the only people she knows from near London. Apart from Hope, but they never exactly got on.” Noah pauses to take a swig of his beer. “If not me, she’d have asked Chelsea to meet, or called Bobby. She only wanted a friend.”

Lucas regards him, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Did Genevieve tell you what happened?” 

“Just that you guys argued about her outfit, and that it blew up into you weren’t happy about doing the long distance thing.” 

Annoyance flashes across Lucas’ face. Noah ignored it. “Why would you put her down like that?”

Lucas doesn’t answer straight away. He stares straight ahead and sighs softly, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a small velvet box and slides it along the bar towards Noah. “I’ve had this for two weeks.”

Noah swallows hard. He opens the box to find a stunning emerald, set in ornate yellow gold. It looks classic and immaculate. “That must’ve cost a fortune.” he says, snapping the box shut and passing it back to Lucas, who holds it under his palm.

“It belonged to my grandmother,” he replies, flatly. “Genevieve still feels weird about having money. She’d hate wearing something I’d spent tens of thousands on.”

Noah doesn’t respond, but his jaw twitches and gulps down the last of his beer. 

“I had this big plan. I told her we were going to the cinema but I booked out the Royal Observatory. I filled it with her favourite flowers and then I had this whole speech…” Lucas trails off.

“But you thought she didn’t look good enough?”

“I think she’s beautiful,” Lucas breathes. “But in my head the moment looked perfect… I think I just got carried away.” 

The two men are silent for a while, until Noah says, “You don’t even live together. Isn’t it too soon for marriage?” 

“I’m in talks to move my clinic to Yorkshire. Genevieve can’t leave Staithes. Not for a while at least.”

Noah rubs his forehead, hand over his eyes to shield the hurt in them. He had no right to feel this way. He never had any claim to Gen’s affections. So why did hearing about Lucas’ plans make him feel so full of resentment? It wasn’t right. 

“You need to tell her, Lucas.” Noah says, trying hard to keep his voice steady. “Gen has no idea you feel this way.”

“I can’t now. I seriously fucked up last night.” Lucas bows his head, hunching his body over the bar.

“It’s not too late. You can fix it.” Noah pulls himself up from the stool and slips on his jacket. He’d heard enough. “See you later, Lucas.”

“Wait…” Lucas calls over his shoulder. “That photo…”

“What about it?”

“Do you have feelings for Genevieve?”

_Yes._

“No.” 

Lucas looks doubtful, so Noah tries again. 

“We’re friends, Lucas. Nothing more.”

_Nothing more on her part._

Noah hates to lie, but how could he tell Lucas the truth? It would serve no purpose. He doesn’t want to damage anyone’s relationship. Noah could get over his crush. He was sure of it. 

——-

Lucas quietly slips into the bedroom, the light from the other room spilling across his girlfriend’s face. His heart aches to look at her, knowing he’d caused this huge rift and she had no idea why. She must have been so confused. 

He was brought up in a strict home, and it was ingrained in him that he should always be well presented. His parents were ready with barbed comments any time his clothes or hair were out of place. They didn’t speak to him for nearly six months when he gave up medicine to retrain in physiotherapy. They didn’t think it had the same level of _prestige_. 

He understood now that he was holding Genevieve to his own impossible standards. How could he not have seen this, when he had felt so hurt by his parent’s rejection? He silently vows to himself that he’ll never treat her that way again. 

As soon as he left the night before, he wanted to go back. To hold her, and make it right between them. But his pride wouldn’t let him. So he rode his motorbike to Henrik’s house in Buckinghamshire hoping Genevieve might turn up to see Chelsea, or maybe call her, and then he would know how she was. 

Lucas felt a little relieved to see she was still fully clothed. The tiniest part of him feared he would find her undressed, despite Noah’s assurance that nothing had happened between them. 

He pulls off his shirt and trousers, before sitting next to her on the bed. Genevieve fell asleep in her clothes often, despite how much she hated it, and her jeans always leave red marks on her soft skin. Being careful not to wake her, he gently tugs her socks off and undoes the button of her jeans, sliding them down her legs. He curls his body around her back and pulls the duvet over her.

He nuzzles into her hair, breathing in the scent of her coconut shampoo. As he leans over, to kiss the skin just behind her ear, Genevieve stirs.

“You came back,” she mumbles, twisting her body over to face him and peeks at him through sorrowful eyes. 

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispers softly, pulling her closer against his chest. “About last night. I wish it hadn’t happened.” 

“Lucas… there’s some photos-” she starts, but Lucas interrupts.

“Of you and Noah, I know. He already explained.”

She blinks in surprise, and stares at him. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Can we start yesterday over again?”

“No, Genevieve, yesterday has been and gone.” He presses a soft kiss to her forehead. He wouldn’t tell her about his plans. He would lock his grandmother's ring away, until he was sure she was ready. “But we have a new day tomorrow.”

“And tonight?” 

He smiles into her hair. “Yes, and tonight.” 

She shifts closer to him and brushes her full lips against his neck, and slides a smooth leg between his. She goes stiff in arms, quickly throwing off the duvet, peering at her lower half in the dark.

“Don’t panic, darling,” he reassures, pulling her back to him. “It was me, I know you hate falling asleep in jeans.” 

She nods, a trace of a smile playing on her lips. “You take such good care of me.”

“Not good enough if last night is anything to go by.”

Genevieve nips at his collarbone with her teeth, and whispers, “Perhaps you can make it up to me.” She looks up at him, eyes sparkling with excitement in the dim light. 

“Perhaps.” 

_God, her smile_.

Lucas runs his hand up her leg, and over her hips. Gripping the hem of her baggy jumper, he drags it over her head, exposing her bare stomach and her black lace bra.

He moves over her, holding himself up on his forearms, only their thighs touching. Lucas caresses her cheek with his thumb, and strokes down to her lips. “I love you so much, Genevieve.” he whispers. He leans in to kiss her, but she smirks and tilts her head quickly, so his lips land on her jawline. 

“Show me,” Genevieve says, playfully. “Show how _much_ you love me.” 

Lucas loved making up with Genevieve. No matter how badly they fought, no matter what he said when his temper flared, she always knew the best way to bring them close again. 

He brings his lips to her shoulder, dragging her bra strap down her arm and planting soft kisses along the mark the strap leaves on her velvet skin. He pulls the material down and his mouth finds her nipple, closing his lips around it and flicking the tip with his tongue. He sucks gently at first, as his hands massage her stomach and roam down, over her underwear. Lucas’ strong hands knead the apex of her thighs, and he brushes a thumb over the edge of the black lace covering her crotch. Genevieve moans under her breath and the sweet sound makes his cock harden against her thigh. 

Her hands run through his hair, pulling lightly, then down his neck and over his shoulders. His fingers sweep lightly over her, delighting in the feel of the lace dampening under his touch. Lucas trails slow kisses down between her legs, licking and sucking softly over her underwear. Genevieve arches her back when he finds her clit through the lace and circles it with his tongue. Her breathing quickens and he pulls the material over to slip his fingers inside. 

His strokes are slow and deliberate, varying the pressure of his tongue on her until she’s rolling her hips in time with her shallow, whimpering breaths. Her body trembles underneath his and he longs to bury his cock inside her. Lucas slides off her underwear, but she pushes him onto his back and moves over him, desire flashing in her eyes. 

“Am I pretty enough for you now?” 

_Fuck yes._

He grabs her waist, pulling her down on top of him, closing the gap between their bodies.

“You’re beautiful.” Lucas murmurs into her hair. “You’re always beautiful.” He dips his head to kiss her but she leans back, kneeling above him. His hard cock bobs against her leg. A smirk twitches at the corners of her lips.

“Please, Genevieve,” he moans. “Please... let me kiss you.” 

“No.” 

Lucas groans in frustration and screws up his eyes. They fly open as he feels her fingers wind around his shaft, guiding him into her. She starts slowly and he lets out another groan but it’s softer this time, more desperate. Grinding herself against him, she rides him harder. Her breaths are shallow again and he is powerless beneath her. 

He matches her rhythm and their pace quickens together. He sits up to kiss her shoulder, sucking hard between his open lips, he leaves red marks on her flawless skin. Lucas frees her from her bra in one swift motion, and pulls her chest tight against his. 

Her nails claw into his back as she moves against him, squeezing her muscles around his cock. She moans in his ear and shudders above him, finding her release. Lucas is seconds behind her, every tense muscle in his body relaxes as his love for the woman in his arms spills out of him. 

His lips find hers, and he tentatively plants the softest kiss on the corner of her mouth, asking for her permission. She turns a fraction to let him in. Lucas crashes his lips against hers, winding one hand around her waist and tangling the other in her hair. Ever so softly, he runs his fingers down her side and she giggles into his kiss. Their elated smiles are wide between delicate kisses and he presses his forehead against hers. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” 


	7. Recon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moments later, Noah opens his front door and a tiny bushy-haired blur laden with shopping bags shoves past him into the hallway. He stumbles backwards, knocking down a photo of his parents from the wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this took me a long time to write. Work is awful right now, so forgive me for taking ages to update! 
> 
> Chapter 8 is almost finished, and it’ll be sent off for proofreading tomorrow. 
> 
> Writing is getting me through the worst days right now, so thank you so much for reading ❤️

Recon

  
After work Noah flops face down on his bed. His colleagues had harassed him all day about his and Gen’s ‘relationship’ following yesterday's pictures. Meeting up with her in person again only solidified his feelings for her. Not that it matters anyway. Soon she’ll be engaged to Lucas.

 _Ugh. Engaged_.

His eyes flicker open at the distant sound of the doorbell. How long had it been ringing? He drags himself from his bed, already longing to be back in it. He barely manages to pick up the phone before he hears an irritated voice.

“Finally… it’s freezing! Buzz me up!”

Moments later, Noah opens his front door and a tiny bushy-haired blur laden with shopping bags shoves past him into the hallway. He stumbles backwards, knocking down a photo of his parents from the wall.

“Careful, Lala!” Noah admonishes, picking up the little frame and balancing it back in place on the hook.

Leila scrunches up her nose in displeasure. “I think I’m getting a little old for that nickname.”

“You’re sixteen. Still just a baby.” Noah says, taking the bags from her. She punches him lightly in the gut as he moves past her. Chuckling, Noah walks into the kitchen, Leila on his heels, and sets the bags on the counter. “So, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“You haven’t answered your texts since yesterday. Mum sent me to do recon.” Leila says, peering into his fridge.

“It’s only been a day.” Noah huffs. Finding the fridge empty, Leila closes it and scans the room. “Gross!” She raises her eyebrows at the recycling bin, still overloaded with takeaway boxes. “That’s a disgusting amount of pizza.”

Noah ignores her and starts unpacking the bags. Fish, spices, _so_ much rice. There’s another bag from Panchal’s, the South Asian supermarket near his childhood home. His face lights up. “Did you get any Maaza?”

“Yeah, I drank mine already. Yours is in there somewhere.”

“Thanks!” he says, digging through the bag until he pulls out the bottle. He chugs it down while Leila roots through his cupboards, tutting at the bare shelves.

Leila has always been a judgemental girl, and the most perceptive. If ever they told her so it went straight to her head, she liked to think she knew better than everyone else. There were times when she was sweet. Times like this. When she’ll use their mum’s passing comments as an excuse to visit him.

Noah reaches over the counter to ruffle the hair of his youngest sibling. She ducks, grabbing the huge share-bag of kettle chips from the counter and scarpers away to the living area. She makes herself comfortable in their dad’s old armchair, cross-legged, crisps in her lap. Of the three Seifu children, Leila was the one most like their dad, despite only being ten months old when he died.

Noah was the one who found him. It was Pancake Tuesday, and their mum had left for work at 5AM, hours before the rest of the house had stirred. Noah didn’t know how to make pancakes. He would be late for school if his dad didn’t get up soon. At first, it just looked like he was sleeping, even a hard shake didn’t make him stir. Noah called his mum at work and she told him to count his breaths over the phone. One, two, three. Dad was okay, he was breathing. But he still didn’t wake.

Noah left Leila sleeping in her cot, praying that she wouldn’t wake too soon, and played dinosaurs with a three year old Gabe on the floor of her bedroom. He held back his tears. Gabe wouldn’t understand. The ambulance arrived before their mum did, waking Leila with the doorbell. One of the paramedics, the lady, gave Leila her bottle and while the man helped his dad, Noah pressed his ear against the closed door. Gabe stamped his feet and wailed. He wanted to play dinosaurs.

Eric Seifu died two days later in hospital. The headache that had been bothering him over the weekend turned out to be a stroke, and after falling asleep on Monday night, he didn’t wake again before he passed.

“What’ve you been watching?” Leila shouts over to him, drawing Noah back to the present.

“None of your business,” he calls back, choosing some ingredients from the bag. Tamarind. Aubergine. “Are you staying for dinner? Vangi Bhath?”

“Ovvishly,” she garbles through a mouthful of crisps.

“You have the worst manners, _Lala_. Mum would be horrified.”

She twists to face him and opens her mouth, showing off the mush on her tongue. He can’t help but laugh and shake his head. Noah turns on the hob. His cooking has never been as good as his mums, for all his efforts. She made it all look so easy.

Thirty minutes later he brings over their plates, and settles himself on the sofa. Leila has already lost interest in the TV, which is now playing episode seven of Love Island. “Hey! I still need to watch the end of the last one!”

“Why? It’s boring. Everyone tries to kiss Genevieve in the challenge. Hope is a bitch, as per.” she rolls her eyes. “And then there’s a fight over the hippy. _Boring_.”

“Hope wasn’t always a bitch,” Noah says stiffly.

“You only saw what she _wanted_ you to see.” Leila waggles her fork full of rice in his direction before stuffing it in her mouth. “She’s a right cunt.”

“Language!” Noah growls.

She waves him off. “You’re such an old man. We young ones swear, have you forgotten?”

Noah narrows his eyes, but she just smirks back at him. “So are you completely over her now?”

He was about to say no, but the word caught in his throat. He was over Hope. While on the show, Noah had been so swept up in the idea of finding love. He had barely considered that he might have partnered up with the wrong woman.

As soon as the plane landed back in England, everything between him and Hope felt flat, and lifeless. Noah yearned for something that wasn’t even there to begin with. It was only his stubbornness that kept their relationship going as long as it did, that didn’t let him give up. Her leaving hadn’t been what hurt him. Only the way she did it. The relationship was over long before Hope ghosted him.

“Yeah,” Noah says. “I mean, yeah I’m sad about it. But more because our relationship wasn’t what I thought it was. I’m more relieved than anything.”

Leila stifles a smile. “You bounced back quick.”

“Shut up.”

They grin at each other, and turn their focus on to the TV, where Gen is helping Noah decide on his talent for the show. She’s burping the alphabet, and the Noah on-screen watches on in amusement.

“That bit was sweet, when she helped you out.”

“Yeah… it was.” Noah replies, smiling softly at the screen.

“We were all hoping you two would get together.” She says it with such nonchalance, as if her words have no weight to them.

“Really?”

“Yep,” she replies, still wolfing down her food. “Mum and Gabe put on bets for you guys to win.”

Noah bursts out laughing. “That’s insane.”

“Is it insane though?” Leila looks up from her plate. “You looked pretty close yesterday.”

So this is why she came over. Not because she wanted to spend time with him. She wants to dig deeper. To get the full story.

_Not this time, Lala._

“We were only catching up.”

“Hmm.”

The sound of Gen’s laughter pulls Noah’s attention to the TV. He watches himself wrap her up in his arms. He and Leila watch the talent show, and dissolve into fits of giggles over Bobby prancing around in Priya’s dress, and Lottie’s sharp comment about Gary looking like a ‘starved donkey’. On the TV, Noah accepted the sash, gave his speech, and thanked Gen for her help. Bobby and Hope stared at her in disbelief, but she didn’t notice. She just beamed at her friend on stage.

Leila carefully watches Noah’s reactions from across the room. “Your eyes have gone all melty,” she remarks. “You like her.”

_Jesus, does nothing escape her?_

A sickening feeling forms in the pit of his stomach, and he slumps against the armrest. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to me,” she crows. “You’re half in love with everyone you meet. All it takes is a little nudge and you’re head over heels.”

Noah let out a heavy sigh. He knew she was right. His mum calls him a romantic, she says it shows good spirit that he goes all out in every relationship he’s had. But Gabe and Lala... they tease relentlessly. They knew he could never recognise the wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing. It was his downfall every time.

Love Island was supposed to be about breaking that cycle. He wanted the chance for a connection to blossom without the pressures of the outside world. But that environment only seemed to accelerate the speed at which his and Hope’s relationship moved forward. He hadn’t even realised he had repeated the same pattern until it was all over.

“You guys really thought we would have worked?”

Leila puts down her fork, putting on her best serious face. “Yeah. She brings you out.”

Noah looks puzzled and Leila just rolls her eyes, annoyed that he can’t see the obvious. “When you meet new people, you’re a… like a,” she searches for the word on the tip of her tongue. “A _wallflower_! All you show people is this quiet and dusty librarian with his boring books and his shitty music.”

Noah raises an eyebrow. “Dusty?”

She sniggers. “But you’re more than that. You’re _funny_ and you’re playful. But usually just with me and mum and Gabe. It was just nice to see you that way with a girl.”

“I was that way with Hope.” Noah says defensively.

“Nuh uh. You were like this meek little duckling. She trampled all over you and you didn’t say shit. Not once, Noah.” Leila replies. “With Genevieve you were your _true_ self ‘cause there was no pressure.”

Noah drops his eyes. She’s right. Of course she’s right. Just sixteen years old and understands more about his inner self than he ever will. This kid makes a better armchair psychologist than Marisol.

“Are you gonna tell Gen that you like her,” Leila says, chewing on another mouthful of rice. “Or will you pine forever while she walks off into the sunset with Lucas?”

“I’ll pine until I’m over it.”

Leila groans and throws a pillow at him. It bounces off his forehead. “Piners are the worst kinds of people, y’know. They’re masochists.”

He launches it back to her with force. “Actually, the worst kinds of people are judgemental little fuckers like you.”

She grins her toothy grin. “ _Language_ , Noah!”

——————

“Lottie, Priya,” Bobby called over to the girls, who were gathered in a tight circle at the fire pit. “Can I pull you girls for a quick chat?” He beckoned them over to the bean bags.

The group exchanged a sideways glance at one another before the two girls stood to follow him.

“What’s this about, Bobby?” Priya asks. “We need to talk with the girls about the most dateable guy.”

Bobby chewed on a fingernail. Worry was written all over his face. “I…. I need - I”

Lottie roughly pulled his hand from his mouth. “Spit it out! We haven’t got time for this.”

“I…. I think Gen is gonna choose Lucas.” Bobby lowered his voice to a whisper. “I know it’s bad, but I’m asking if you girls will save me if it comes to it. I’m not ready to go home. Not yet when I’ve barely had a chance.”

“Are you actually asking us to say Lucas is the least dateable?” Priya hissed under her breath.

His gaze dropped to his feet, and Lottie pulled him into a tight hug. “Don’t worry, Bobby. You’re not going anywhere.”

Bobby rested his chin on her shoulder, and tried to meet Priya’s eyes, but she was watching the rest of the group. “Priya, I just want my shot with her. I really like her.”

Priya shot him a look. “Tell her then. You’re doing yourself no favours by playing it cool.”

“I will. I promise.”

“Girl, come on!” Lottie pleaded. “He needs our help.”

Priya sighed and joined the hug, wrapping her arms around his back. “Okay,” she muttered into his shoulder. “Do _not_ waste this opportunity.”

***

_Genevieve, you’re obviously upset about Lucas being up for a dumping. Can you talk us through your thoughts?_

“I’m more upset that Priya obviously decided to vote for him knowing that there’s something between us. Even though I _know_ she’s not interested in Henrik. ”

_Why do you think she did it?_

“Maybe I upset her? I don’t know how, though. Marisol is just looking out for herself, so who can blame her? Hope would’ve done it to spite me, except she’s obviously into Lucas too. I expected it from Lottie. But I thought Priya was my friend.”

_So what happens now?_

She sighed and pulled her knees up underneath her. “Just wait and see what the public decides, I guess. Lucas is definitely my typical type, and I haven’t had much luck with that in the past. I still really like Bobby, so maybe should just concentrate more on him.”

——————

**[Ding]**

Noah glances at his phone, at the top of the long list of messages from his friends and family badgering him about yesterday’s photos, there’s a message from Gen. His heart leaps into his mouth as he opens the chat.

“Oh sure, now you check your phone.” Leila grumbles, but then realisation crosses her face and she jumps up to read over his shoulder. “It’s her, isn’t it?”

“You’re meeting up with her again?” Leila asks incredulously.

“It’s a group thing,” he replies with exasperation. “Not a big deal.”

“Can I come? I want to meet her.”

“Sorry, Lala. Not this time.”

“Why not?” Leila pouts. She hates to be left out.

Noah groans with annoyance. “Because I don’t want to babysit you while I’m out with my friends.”

“Babysit?!’ she screeches. Her face pinches up, and she storms across the room to grab her coat. If anything upsets Leila, it’s being treated like a child.

 _Oops_.

“I’m more of an adult than you are!” Leila yells, red-faced and wrestling with her sleeves. “At least I have the bollocks to tell someone when I like them!”

“Oh come on,” Noah says, walking over to try and give her an _I’m sorry_ hug. She pushes his arms away. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Maybe you should work on your tact then,” she snaps.

“Leila, if you stopped having temper tantrums then maybe I wouldn’t treat you like a child.”

Her eyes flash but Noah is sure he saw the corners of her mouth twitch up.

_At least she understands irony._

He pats her on top of head, jovially, and she laughs despite herself.

“It’s too late to go home now, you’re staying here tonight.” Noah says, with as much authority as he can muster. “Call mum to let her know.”

“Fine,” she sighs dramatically, eyes wide and pleading. “But I do want to meet all your Love Island friends soon. Set something up… please?”

“Alright, fine,” he says, chuckling at the expression on his little sisters’ face. “Maybe a house party here, where I can be sure you won’t get into trouble.”

She squeals, jumping up to hug him. Leila was never one to stay angry, so long as you had a carrot for her rather than the stick.


	8. Speed Watch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leila guides Noah through the ‘important’ parts of the Love Island episodes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With thanks to u/lilyboopqueenie and u/xhalia00 for their excellent edits and support as always ❤️
> 
> I hope you enjoy this next instalment! Thank you for all your comments and love for this story so far 🥰 you don’t know how much it means to me.
> 
> Chapter 9 coming soon!

Speed Watch

  
Noah finds Leila sitting at the kitchen island when he returns home from work, digging into a huge bowl of Frosties.

“How did you get in?” he asks, dumping his coat and eyeing the large rucksack on the countertop next to her.

“Mum’s spare key,” Leila mumbles through a mouthful of cereal. She swallows and wipes the milk from her mouth with her sleeve. “You’ve got less than four days before your date to watch twenty-two episodes. I’m here to help.”

“It’s not a date, Lala,” Noah sighs, “and I can watch it by myself.”

“You won’t get through it in time without me,” she pleads, eyes wide. “I can help you speed-watch. Though, it would help if you pull a sickie-”

“Not happening,” he says, “besides, you still have to go to school.”

She sneers. “It’s only two weeks until Christmas, no one will care.”

“I’ll care. You aren’t skiving off,” he replies with a sharp look.

“I didn’t bring my uniform.”

“Well isn’t it handy that I keep a spare set here!”

“Jesus, fine.”

Noah tugs at the collar of his shirt, “you’re gonna be so much trouble when you’re older.”

“I’m trouble now,” Leila smirks, seemingly pleased with herself, and slips off her stool to turn on the TV.

“We’re starting right this second?”

“Yep,” she says. “No time like the present.”

—————

“Do you think it’s true?” Noah asked.

Gen squirmed in her seat, uncomfortable with the question. They sat alone in the kitchen, after the Mean Tweets Challenge.

“Should you really be asking me, Noah? Hope and I don’t exactly get along.”

“Well that’s why I’m asking you, you won’t cover for her.”

She took a sip from her water bottle, her dark eyes glanced at Hope across the garden. “She could be using you. It’s only been seven days, how well can you even know someone after a week?” Gen continues with indifference, “in fairness, take what I say with a pinch of salt, we barely know each other either.”

Noah’s shoulders slumped and disappointment crept across his face, “so there’s no one I can trust in here?”

She rested her hand on his knee gently, “silly goose,” she said, “I was joking! You missed my point!”

“Oh. What’s your point?”

“That the challenge was designed to make us question each other! You shouldn’t give total strangers the time of day. Most of what they said was bollocks anyway.”

“Okay,” Noah's face was impassive, hiding the doubt she’d set in his mind. “So I can trust you?”

She tapped her nose, conspiratorially, and took another long draught from her bottle. Noah rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a nervous laugh, and Gen’s expression softened.

“It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks, Noah,” she sighed, patting his hand with hers. “If you trust each other, that’s all that matters.”

Noah nodded curtly. Just as he opened his mouth to reply, Bobby leapt out from the other side of the kitchen island. Gen jumped out of her seat, coughing and spluttering on her mouthful of water.

“BOO!” he yelled, pounding his fists on the counter.

“Bobby!” she spluttered, “you’re gonna be the death of me!”

“Ah I’m sorry lass!” Concern flashed across Bobby’s face and he ran around the island to rub her back. Noah rolled his eyes and caught sight of Hope walking over to Lucas, sitting closer to the other man than he would have liked. He managed to keep a straight face, but he studied them carefully.

While Noah was distracted, Gen leaned into Bobby’s touch, stifling a small smile.

“So Noah,” Bobby said, resting his chin on top of Gen’s head and wrapping her up in his arms from behind, “is Genevieve giving her two pennies worth again?”

Gen’s eyes went wide and she threw her head back, giggling up at his mischievous grin. “The only time I give my opinion is when you guys drag me into your drama,” she flicked her eyes back at Noah. “Stick up for me please!”

Noah didn’t seem to hear them, his eyes fixed on his partner across the garden.

Gen followed his gaze and mouthed ‘ _Obsessed’_ at Bobby. They sniggered together, Noah still oblivious to the interaction. Gen’s eyebrows furrowed as she checked her watch and she slipped out of Bobby’s arms. “I’d best get ready for tonight.”

Bobby grabbed her hand. “It’ll be alright, Gen. Whatever happens, you’ve got me.” He planted a chaste kiss on her cheek. Her smile was forced, but the tension around her eyes melted a little before she turned away from him and walked towards the villa.

————-

“Did we have to watch that, Leila?” Noah asks. “I was there the whole time, it’s nothing new.”

_It_ is _something new. You didn’t notice Bobby and Gen flirting again_.

“Just showing you how different you are when you’re with her, compared to Hope and all the others.”

“How am I different?”

“You actually tell her what you’re thinking, you never do that with anyone else outside of us,” she replies, exasperated. “And _she_ can read you like a book.” Leila adopts the tone of a wise old lady when she gets like this, when she feels like she’s pointing out the obvious.

“It’s easier with her, Noah. Love should be easy.”

————-

Lucas’ shoulders sagged as he stood, but Gen wrapped her fingers around his wrist and tugged him back to the bench. “Stay? Just a little longer,” she said, her tone wistful and low.

The other Islanders were still saying goodbye to Rocco, and Lucas looked like all he wanted to do was spend his last few moments in the villa with her. He positioned himself close to her, legs touching, and she leant into him when he slid an arm around her waist.

“I wish you could stay,” Gen whispered, her eyes cast downwards, a finger delicately running along his thigh, “I want to know what could have been.”

His eyes flamed and he brought his hand up to her cheek, brushing it with his thumb. She met his gaze and searched his soulful eyes. His hand stroked down her neck while the other clutched her waist, pulling her body tight against his.

He broke the silence first. “Our first kiss shouldn’t have been in that challenge. It should have been now.”

Lucas dipped his head slowly to meet Gen’s parted lips and she lifted her chin, eyes closed. The tips of their noses touched, dragging out the almost kiss. Their cheeks flushed pink with longing, both their breaths heavy and ardent. Gen shivered as though she were cold but she couldn’t have been, the air that night was so hot and still, yet the hairs on those slender arms that were wrapped around Lucas’s neck stood on end. Their lips were just a breath apart when she hesitated. Gen’s eyes fluttered open. She whipped her arms back into her lap, pulling away from his lips and his touch.

Lucas blinked. “Oh… I-” he shifted away from her, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry. I thought…I don’t know what I thought.”

“I want to,” Gen’s voice was shaky, “I really do. You’ve got such a hold on me...”

“But?”

Gen bit her lip. “I’m coupled up with Bobby. I can’t.”

“Wow, okay,” the corners of his mouth twitched up a little, and he gave a curt nod. “I’ve got to say, I’m rather impressed with your sense of loyalty.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Mad? No,” Lucas managed a chuckle. “But I won’t be forgetting you in a hurry.”

With a hand on her hip, he dragged her back towards him and she giggled softly, but when she met his eyes again, her smile faltered. Lucas gazed at her intently and leant into her hair, whispering, “I should have kissed you that first day. On our date. We could have had more time together.” Lucas smiled into her curls, “this doesn’t feel like goodbye.”

Gen didn’t respond. She just found his hand and intertwined her fingers with his. They sat still for a moment, only the sound of the cicadas filling the silence. Lucas stood slowly, pulling Gen up with him.

“I need to pack,” he said. “I should say my goodbyes to the others too.”

Gen stretched up on her tip-toes to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “I’ll miss you.”

“I hope so,” Lucas let out a quiet laugh, he suddenly seemed nervous. “I mean… I’m not asking you to hold out for me or anything. But if things don’t work out with you and Bobby, or anyone else… would you give me a call?”

Gen’s eyes twinkled. “If I’m single, you can count on it.”

—————

Noah’s throat goes dry. Watching that scene had him holding his breath and unconsciously digging his fingernails into his palms. He had been hoping Leila wouldn’t show him anything like this, now that she knew Noah’s feelings for Gen were evolving into something… something else.

“Are we going to watch anything that doesn’t involve Gen’s relationships with other men?” Noah asks skeptically.

“There’s a method to the madness,” Leila waves him off.

“So your plan is to torture me until I give in and go after her?”

Leila grins. “Yeah, basically.”

————-

_How are you feeling this morning Genevieve?_

Gen picked at her nails, she looked like she wanted to be anywhere but the beach hut. “I feel like I’ve been mugged off to be honest.”

_Why?_

“I didn’t kiss Lucas last night purely out of respect for Bobby, and for what I have with him so far. And he’s spent the whole morning making cupcakes for Lottie and naming them after her,” Gen sighed. “I don’t see it, but is something going on between them that I’ve missed, or are they just friends?”

_You know we can’t discuss that, Genevieve._

“I know. I know,” she replied, head in her hands. “I’m just worried I’m reading Bobby completely wrong. I like him in a completely different way to Lucas. Bobby is so good at making me laugh, and he has this boyish sweet side to him. But he blows so hot and cold, and when he does that I just don’t know where to turn.”

***

Bobby shook the last few drops of wine into Gen’s glass. “I’ve had such a good time on this date, lass. Thanks for inviting me.”

Gen smiled at him, cocking her head. “Did you think I’d choose someone else?”

“No… I-” Bobby faltered. “I guess I’ve been kinda distant lately. I thought you were more interested in Lucas.”

Gen fiddled with her necklace, that tiny fragile star that she never went without. “I can’t deny that I’ve been distracted,” she said slowly, pausing to take a sip of wine. “I spent years being second best at home. I was never a boy's first choice, even Danny’s. He settled for me because I was there for him when no one else was. It hurt like you wouldn’t believe. I’m so sorry if I made you feel like that.”

Something registered in Bobby’s eyes, and he stretched his arm across the table, taking her hand and running his thumb across her knuckles. “You were my first choice, Genevieve. You still are.”

“Do you mean that?”

“I should’ve told you sooner, I can see it now.” Bobby’s voice was shaky, almost a whisper. “I like you… so much. I just wasn’t sure I was your type.”

“I like you too, Bobby. I still want to see if we have something.”

Bobby grinned, standing quickly and pulling her with him. She laughed as he stumbled backwards, but she held him steady with both hands gripping his open arms. Bobby dragged her close. He cupped her face with his hands and Gen’s eyes closed, waiting for her kiss, and they flew open when his lips didn’t land on hers. Instead he showered her with feather light kisses on her forehead. Her cheeks. The tip of her button nose.

Bobby touched her nose with his finger, “Boop!” and her whole body shook as she laughed.

————-

Leila pauses the recording. “There!” she says, triumphantly. She looks deflated as she takes in Noah’s confused expression. “Don’t you see?”

“See what?”

“She needs to be _wanted_ ,” Leila throws her hands up in the air in frustration. “Genevieve didn’t want to repeat the same pattern with her exes. She wanted someone to sweep her off her feet. That’s why she likes Lucas! He was only there for like three days and he _only_ pursued Genevieve. Bobby can’t understand that her need for privacy doesn’t mean she’s not interested in him.”

Leila gets such a thrill over figuring people out, it’s her gift and she knows it. “You should be a psychologist when you’re older, Lala.”

She scoffs. “Oh please, like Marisol?”

“Marisol is a law student.”

Leila’s jaw drops. “Could’ve fooled me! All that girl did was bang on about how _good_ she was at psychology and reading people!” she laughs mirthlessly. “Anyway, I’d rather use my powers for good.”

“Like for counselling?”

“For matchmaking!”

Noah tries to suppress his laugh with his hand, and once he sees Leila narrowing her eyes, he masks the sound with an obviously fake cough.

“She totally would’ve picked you on the first day if you’d just bloody stepped forward,” Leila mutters.

————

Hope and Marisol were on the roof terrace, talking in low whispers, when Gen stepped through the door, causing Hope to stop mid-sentence and glare at her.

“Why are you here?”

“I was looking for Bobby,” Gen replies. “Are you alright? You look upset.”

“What do you care? You can leave,” Hope snapped, but Marisol touched her shoulder gently.

“Hope, it might be good to get her perspective.”

Hope pondered this as she avoided Gen’s eyes, “I guess she doesn’t really know us.”

Marisol coughed, throwing an apologetic glance towards Gen. “Well, actually… I meant because she knows Noah pretty well.”

Hope looked like she’d sucked on a lemon, but she relented, maybe curiosity got the better of her. She explained how the hoodie argument started, and how upset she was when Noah didn’t seem to understand.

“Let me get this right…” Gen began slowly, with a raised eyebrow and a measured tone. “You reckon your hoodie is ruined just because the bloody string came out, and when Noah presented a solution, you went off on him? Did he even know how much this hoodie means to you?”

“No-”

Gen glowered at the taller woman. “So you expected him to read your mind?” she hissed. “Then you started going on about money and you’re angry because he acknowledged that you have more than him?”

Hope blinks and opens her mouth to respond, but Gen doesn’t give her the chance.

“Were you _trying_ to make him feel like shit?” Gen’s voice grew louder as she became more irate. “He was trying to help you, and you acted like a brat and instead of dealing with it you tried to get the rest of us to feel sorry for you. It’s _pathetic_. _You’re_ pathetic.”

She stormed off back into the villa before Hope or Marisol could reply. The cameras followed her downstairs, still fuming, until she stumbled upon Noah in the living room.

————

Noah cringes as he remembers what this scene is, and what spills out of his mouth next. Having just watched Gen call out Hope like that, he’s surprised she didn’t rip him to shreds.

_Oh shit. Why did I say that? Unsend!_

“Fuck! Leila, she’s left me on read.”

“Why? What did you say?” Leila reads over his shoulder and cackles madly. “Oh my God, Noah, what was that?” she screeches.

“I wasn’t thinking!”

Three little dots appear in the corner on the screen. Noah waits, enraptured and silent, while Leila buzzes with energy next to him. Was I out of line? He holds his breath. But all too soon those three dots disappear and no message from her arrives.

Leila sniffs in disappointment. “We need to work on your game.”

—————

It’s after the Ministry Of Sound Party and Bobby and Gen were nominated for a night in the hideaway. Most of the other islanders had disappeared into the villa, only Hope and Jakub remained outside on the daybeds. He was in the middle of the bed, arms stretched across the headboard, while Hope lay face down on his left.

“You looked hot tonight, Hope,” Jakub said, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face. “But you would’ve looked better dancing with me.”

Hope smirked into her pillow, touching the tip of her tongue to her teeth. “I’m kinda surprised you didn’t try it. I’d love to see how a man like you moves.”

“Is that a dare?” Jakub replied with a wink. “I never turn down a dare.”

Hope rolled onto her side, fluttering her lashes and biting her tongue. “I’ll remember that for next time.” She slid off the bed, but not before brushing her bare leg against his, slow and deliberate.

***

**[Iain Stirling: Meanwhile, in the hideaway, Genevieve thought they might be getting up to no good, but Bobby just can’t stop chatting about the furniture!]**

“...and you can tell when it’s a proper expensive mattress ‘cause-”

Gen clasped her hand over his mouth before he could finish his monologue. “Bobby,” she whispered. “That’s enough mattress chat.”

Bobby waggled his eyebrows, trying his best to smoulder. “Now onto the pillow talk.”

Gen sniggered and shoved a pillow in his face. He tried to pull it down, but she was stronger than she looked. They wrestled with it, letting out bursts of laughter and tangling their legs, until Bobby ripped the pillow out of Gen’s grip and tossed it away. He was kneeling over her, breathless and flush-faced. Gen dragged sparkling eyes up his body, biting her lip and, with a hesitant glance at the camera, she pulled the sheets over them.

—————

The lights clicked off automatically, but Noah can still make out their shapes in the charcoal shadows. His breath hitches as he watches Bobby trace Gen’s collarbone with his tongue. Gen arches her body towards him and when a soft moan escapes from her lips, it’s all Noah can bear. A pang of envy thumps in his chest and he stands quickly, knocking Leila’s bottle over.

“Noah!”

“I need a drink,” Noah fakes what he hopes looks like disinterest. “Carry on without me.”

Leila rolls her eyes, discerning as ever. “Don’t be so uptight.”

Noah ignores her, escaping to the kitchen on the other side of the room, where the TV was just out of sight. But Leila was having none of it. She turned up the sound so all Noah can hear is the sound of Bobby kisses on bare skin and Gen’s breaths growing fast and heavy.

Leila, who lives for drama, is gleeful at his displeasure, and calls over to him, “they’re definitely shagging now,” she squeals. “You can see the sheets moving!”

Another moan from Bobby. “Skip it,” Noah says from behind the counter, “I don’t want to watch my friends in bed.”

“You can’t actually see anything, they’re covered up!” she complains. “Like they’d ever show full sex on telly!”

“Leila, I’m serious,” his voice sharper than he means it to be. “Skip it, or I’m not playing your little game anymore.”

She pouts, huffing, as she skips to her next carefully chosen scene, and Noah uses those few minutes to compose himself. The envy that courses through him is intense and unexpected, and the sounds of Gen’s gentle sounds echo in his mind. Is this what he wants? To be the one that unravels her, to make her come undone with his touch, or is this just his loneliness playing tricks? Could it just be a smokescreen, designed by the producers, and Leila, through clever camera work and editing, designed to make the viewer fall in love with their favourite Islander?

_Is this real?_

He drums his fingers on the countertop, checking his phone again to see if she’d replied. Nothing.

“You ready?” Leila calls over to him.

_As I’ll ever be_.

Noah mentally prepares himself for another emotional beating, but then he sees the scene Leila has lined up for him. The disaster recoupling.

“Why do we need to watch this?” he asks.

“Wait and see.”

Jakub starts things off with choosing Hope, then Henrik picks Gen. Noah remembers feeling the pressure to choose someone, anyone. Those few seconds felt like hours as his eyes darted between the remaining girls until he finally settled on Priya. She hadn’t shown him any interest, but she was the only girl apart from Gen that he was friendly with. The scene plays out as he remembers it, there’s nothing new, apart from a profound look of longing between Gen and Bobby that somehow went unnoticed at the time. Noah clearly misses something, but he’s not about to give Leila the satisfaction of asking again.

—————

“Henrik,” Gen whispered, pulling him by the wrist away from the fire pit and the rest of the group, who were still caught up the dramatic decoupling of Hope and Noah. “Why did you pick me?”

Henrik furrowed his brow. “I thought I was keeping you safe! Lucas asked me to look out for you.”

“But Bobby was going to choose me!”

“Oh... Oh!” Henrik stammered. “I thought you were just a friendship couple?”

She let out a bitter laugh and frowned at her new partner. “We might not be all over each other in public but that doesn’t mean I don’t like him.”

“I’m so sorry!” he smacked his palm against his forehead. “I can’t believe I spoiled this for you!”

Gen’s expression shifted quickly, her annoyance dissolved into understanding. “It’s okay, love,” she said kindly. “I know you meant well.”

Henrik smiled with relief, wide and goofy, and looped his arm around her shoulders guiding her towards the beanbags. “Okay, so if you want Bobby back,” he starts, eyes wide and excited. “We’re gonna need a game plan so you can sleep out here with him unnoticed.”

Gen laughed, flopping down onto the beanbag. “Excuse me! Why can’t you sleep outside? You’re the one who mucked up our plans!”

“I wouldn’t have done it if you weren’t so secretive!” Henrik nudged her with his elbow. “And you might like to keep your sexy midnight rendezvous on the down low.”

“Oh God!” Gen cringed and covered her eyes with her hands. “Please shut up now!”

”Shall we go back to the group then?” Henrik asked.

Gen turned to look at the shouting match still going on and blanched. “Are you kidding? All that over a hoodie? No thank you!”

His laugh went booming across the garden, throwing back his long blonde hair, and his guffaws were so contagious that Gen let herself fall into giggles.

***

Gen and Bobby were cocooned in a daybed when she woke abruptly, just as the first rays of sunshine were glinting over the horizon.

She shook his shoulders. “Bobby get up! We fell asleep!”

“No, lass,” he grumbled, eyes closed tight. He hugged her waist, brushing tender kisses across the bare skin under her breast. “I wanna stay here. You’re so wee. You make the best little spoon.”

Her eyes crinkled and she leant down to whisper in his ear, stroking his arm affectionately. “C’mon,” she said, quiet and gentle. “I don’t want everyone talking about us. We’ll be back together again soon.”

—————  
  


**[Ding]**

Leila looks up. “Is that Genevieve? Did she reply?”

Noah shakes his head. “It’s Bobby.”

“Ooh that’s perfect,” she says gleefully, stretching her legs. “Time to organise the party.”

_Okay. This might actually be fun._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I should make it clear that Operation Nope does not happen in my version of the villa story.   
> ————  
> 💛 If you’re a FF writer and want to chat with other writers, we’re on r/LITGFanFiction. Come join our subreddit where we can discuss our ideas, nominate our favourite stories for featured, and offer support to one another 💛


	9. Out Of Sight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh Bobby, what are we going to do with you?

Out Of Sight 

  
Frayed notebooks and crumpled post-its scatter the rug where Genevieve lay on her belly, propped up by her elbows. She stares out the window, where powdery silver flakes have just begun to drift sleepily to the ground, only illuminated by the yellow of the streetlamp on the other side of the road. Lucas isn’t back from his run yet, but he won’t be long. He hates the cold.

The fire finally rages after she rearranged the kindling so it would catch. Poor Lucas had struggled to get the flames to catch for an hour before he gave up. Orange heat bites at her cheeks and although she knows it will soon sting to sit so close, she won’t move from this spot. Her favourite writing place.

She turns back to her notes, long and slanted, and she plucks yellow-aged words from those old pages, twisting them around into something new. She carefully scripts her letters on the first page of the leatherbound journal she bought this morning. Unblemished by ink of dulled pain from her past.   
  


_haunted by the whispers_

_tired from talking_

_followed by the dreamers_

_disobeying the warning_

_wishing for a better me, a better you_

_a better us that could never be_

She scratches out the last line. _Awful_. Danny was the songwriter of the group, and since he’d disappeared from their home and their lives, the task had been mostly left to her. The other guys, Otis, Matt, and Arthur, set up trials with local singers while she was on the show, which only proved unsuccessful. They had tried to persuade her to take up the mic herself, and though it was fine for a song or two, she loved being hidden behind her kit. Gen never wanted the limelight, only the exhilaration she felt when she made music with her friends. 

Her feet bounce in the air along to the beat playing over in her mind, and she hums Arthur’s melody. 

_I hope this suits his voice._

It was her who had stumbled upon their new singer, by sheer chance he had fallen into her lap when she least expected it. His sound was completely different from Danny’s but he slotted in well with the group, as if he had known her and the guys for years. He said he would only join them for six months, while they searched for someone who’d be in it for the long haul, but Gen was confident he could be persuaded. He may have his plans but nothing is ever set in stone. She knew that well. 

Gen snaps off a piece of the dark chocolate that Lucas brought from her new favourite farmers market. It pools on her warm tongue, melting into velvet, and the taste brings her back to when Papá was still with them. Each night before bed he would give her the tiniest square of darkest, richest chocolate that he could find. She loved the taste even then, bittersweet on her tongue, as she curled up in his lap and listened to his songs. In his rasping voice, he sang to her in Spanish, while she drifted to sleep in his arms. After he left, her mum had tried to sing those same lullabies, but she didn’t speak Spanish well, and she tripped over the words. It was just as well. Those songs only made five year old Genevieve cry harder for her Papá. 

By the time she was nine, the disease her mum had been diagnosed with a few years before had rendered her incapable of caring for little Gen. She was taken to meet the Dalton’s, the foster family she would live with until she turned seventeen, and where she would meet Danny. The sweet lullabies were gone, faded into a distant echo of a memory. Now it was just a dream of the parents who were lost to her, as she knew it. 

She hears the back door latch, and the sound of Squid’s nails clattering on the kitchen tiles echo through the ancient house. The door swings open and frostbitten air gushes across the room like a wave. In pads Squid, his cold nose snuffles under Gen’s elbow in search of a cuddle. 

Lucas follows shortly after, barefoot and bare chested, with large snowflakes dusting his hair, rapidly melting in the heat of the lounge. Drip, drip, drip, the droplets slide onto bare, sculpted shoulders. He stands close to the fire, arm resting on the mantelpiece, letting the warmth seep into his body. 

“This house is so bloody cold,” he complains. “Your kitchen may as well be windowless.”

“It helps if you wear clothes.” Gen grins and pokes her tongue out at her boyfriend. 

“What I _was_ wearing got soaked in your horrible northern weather.” Lucas rolls his eyes, but it’s good natured. “How long do you think it’ll take me to acclimatise?” 

“I don’t know, but you’d best get dressed before Arthur catches you.” Gen laughs and points her pen at him, waving it up and down his body. “You make him feel insecure.” 

The day after Gen met up with Noah in London, Lucas told her of his plans to move his practice up north so they could finally move in together. She might be excited, but she still has her reservations. This is her home. This crumbling Victorian house on the hilltop, with the family she made for herself. 

The cottage by the cowshed had always been too small for all five of them, but living there meant they were able to save meticulously, until they scraped enough money together for a deposit. They had bought this house two years ago, when their band really took off and they finally had regular gigs and a steady income. They gave up their second jobs to devote more time to the band, as well as renovating the house, room by room by themselves. The extension had been first, for a space to practice. Otis was adamant the walls should be soundproofed, very much aware that their new neighbours would be even less appreciative of their practice sessions than the cows were.

The rooms were finished quickly when Danny moved out and wasn’t around to distract them. They painstakingly stripped back every inch and started from scratch, sanding, replastering, painting. Tearing up stained, threadbare carpets, and replacing the single-glazed windows. Most of the house was now beautiful in her eyes, fresh and modern, with the traditional touches she loved so much. Only the dining room, kitchen and hallways were left. Still, it wasn’t up to Lucas’ standards. 

“I’m not moving into any house without gas central heating,” Lucas grumbles under his breath, rubbing his hands together. “It’s like time travelling to the nineteenth century when I come to see you.” 

“There’s no gas in this part of Staithes. We checked.” Gen drops her pen onto her notebook and looks up at Lucas, reaching up to grab his hand. She pulls him down next to her, and says “besides, I like having a fireplace. It’s cosy.”

He sits cross legged at her shoulder, and runs his freezing palms down her back and curls his fingers under her pyjamas. She jolts at her partners’ icy touch, but she doesn’t move away, allowing him to warm his hands on her skin. 

“We’ll find somewhere close by,” Lucas replies, leaning in to kiss her cheek. He doesn’t seem to notice her body stiffen at his words. “So you can see them whenever you want.” 

_He won’t move in here._

The realisation stings. Gen would hate to give up her home now, when it’s so close to being finished. It’s not just the house. Living with her bandmates had given her the happiest moments of her life, one that she never thought she’d have when her parents were gone. Otis, Matt, and Arthur might not be blood, but they are as good as. No, they’re better than that. They _chose_ her. Time and time again. 

But change always comes. Danny had shown her that nothing lasts forever. For better or for worse, there will come a point where she has to make room in her heart for something more permanent. Danny would always have a piece of it, why shouldn’t Lucas? 

“What do you think?” 

Lucas’ voice snaps her out of her thoughts, and she has no idea what he was talking about. “I’m so sorry, I zoned out,” she says with a grimace.

Lucas lets out a frustrated sigh. “Noah’s hosting a New Years party, I think we should go.”

“Really?” Gen can’t hide the surprise in her voice. “You don’t like Noah.”

“No,” he says, chuckling, “but I like Henrik, and Chelsea. And quite a few of the others are going. It’d be nice to catch up. Bobby might go too.” 

Gen grinned up at him, and his eyes shone back at her. They had some issues in their relationship, but Lucas was finally working on his jealousy, and she knew he’d do anything to make her happy. Him dealing with his issues with her male friendships was a part of that. 

She pushes herself up and fetches her phone from the kitchen, scanning the group chat before messaging Bobby privately. She walks back through to the living room and settles back down next to Lucas, who has Squid’s head resting in his lap, stroking under his ears affectionately.

“I can’t believe you’re not a dog person,” Gen says. “You dote on him.”

“I’m not. Cats are better,” he replies, now rubbing the red Labrador’s belly, whose wagging tail thrashes the rug. “But Squid and I are cool.”

Bobby’s reply comes through with a _ding_ and Gen sniggers when she opens the chat. Lucas reads over her shoulder. “You guys text weird. How do you understand each other?”

“We don’t sometimes, it’s part of the fun,” she replies with a shrug.

They’re interrupted by the sound of the back door slamming shut, and the loud voices of three Yorkshiremen shout over one another. The living room door swings open and her housemates pile into the room. Squid scampers out of Lucas’ lap to jump up at Arthur, the smallest of the men. 

“Hiya Geeg,” Arthur says, with an upnod to Lucas. “Can we not be half naked in shared spaces, mate?”

She throws her pen at him, and it hits square on his forehead, “Argh! Genevieve!”

“Lucas just walked your dog for you.”

“He’s your dog!”

“You finished the hook yet?” Matt interrupts before Gen can argue back, “We wanna try something.”

_This boy! Always impatient._

“If you want a song in a day, Matt,” she replies, looking back at her phone, “you’ll have to actually help me with the lyrics.”

Otis groans, “Ugh, no. All our songs will be about his Oedipus complex.”

“Will you stop it? I do _not_ fancy my mam!” Matt retorts with a grimace. “ _One_ time, I said she was pretty, it doesn’t hurt to be nice to your own mam.”

“Your mam though, Otis,” Arthur joins in. “She’s fit as fuck.” 

“She’s fifty eight!” 

“So you’re saying she’s got experience?” Matt quips with a wink.

The boys bicker back and forth, fighting over the corner seat of the sofa, and Lucas excuses himself to the loo. 

“Wanna come t’pub?” Arthur asks Gen, nudging around a post-it with his toe. She plucks it away from him, smooths the paper out and tucks it inside one of her notebooks.

“No thanks, love,” she says, “I think I might have something,” She drums her fingers on the open page, and lowers her voice to a whisper. “But would you take Lucas with you?”

The guys exchange uncertain glances, “Erm, Geeg,” Arthur says, avoiding her eye, “He’s… I dunno. He’s not exactly on our wavelength.”

“That’s kind of the point. I’ve asked him to make more of an effort with my mates but it’s a two-way street,” Gen makes her eyes go round and wide, “Please? If he moves here, he’ll need some friends too.”

“Gen, c’mon-” Otis starts, but their heads snap to the doorway when they hear Lucas’ light footsteps creaking on the stairs. Now wearing a thick cable knit jumper, he walks into an awkward silence and the three boys on the sofa avoid looking in his direction. Gen glares at them. Lucas darts his eyes between the group, his expression uneasy, and asks, “What’s going on?”

Matt catches Gen’s eye, gracing her with a sympathetic smile, “We’re just off to the pub. Grab your shoes lad, you’re coming too.”

Arthur gapes at Matt, earning him a discreet elbow to the ribs from Otis. The shortest man quickly closes his mouth. 

“Oh. Err… I thought I’d keep Genevieve company,” he replies, nervously glancing towards her.

“Nah, lad. If we’re ever gonna get a new album out, we need to leave our girl alone to write,” Matt says, with a quick wink to Gen, “She can’t concentrate with all of us around.”

Lucas looks like he wants to refuse, but she smiles at him with such hopefulness in her eyes that the protest dies on his lips. She jumps up from the floor to wrap him in a hug, which he returns gratefully, nuzzling her neck. 

“I’ll get cold again,” he whispers into her ear. 

“I’ll help warm you up when you get home,” Gen whispers back with a smirk. He chuckles, and she tilts her head to meet his lips with hers, ignoring the disgusted sounds coming from the men-children behind her. 

“It’s like watching your mum kiss someone,” Matt says, with a shudder.

Arthur grins. “There he goes with his Oedipus complex again,” he chortles, and wrinkles his nose at Gen and Lucas, “I agree though. _Gross._ ”

Lucas can’t stop his cheeks turning pink, but Gen just laughs along with her friends, easy and carefree. Matt pushes himself off the sofa with a grunt, and the others follow suit, jostling Lucas out the door. 

Gen plops herself back down on the rug, calling after them, “when you come home hammered, don’t forget to take off your muddy shoes! I’m not cleaning the carpets again.”

“Yes, mammy!” they sing-song in unison. Gen can’t stop herself from laughing as they flutter their eyelashes at her, with angelic smiles plastered on their faces. She secretly loves being the mother hen of the group, but at least the people closest to her knew better than to involve her in any petty drama. Her eyes shine brightly back at them, the love for her makeshift family evident on her face. 

When they disappear from the room, Gen turns her attention back to her phone, replying to the messages in the group chat Noah had set up for his party. She swipes back to Noah’s private chat, and reads the last text he sent her for the tenth time. 

‘It was that split red one-piece you wore. It threw me off’

_Christ, what does he expect me to say to that?_

Her thumbs hover over the screen, pondering what kind of message would get them past the awkwardness. She knew he avoided double texting like the plague, especially when he says something so... _unlike_ him. She wasn’t even sure what he meant by it. Could it have just been a bad joke? Or was it more than that? Gen shakes her head sharply, and taps out ‘did you set up a party group chat just so you could invite me without double texting?’ before quickly deleting it, unsure if a joke would be the right response, and slides the phone across the rug and out of reach. 

_Sod it. Let him make the effort._

—————

“Will you get off my shoulder?”

“Just let me see what everyone said then! Are they coming?”

“It’s my phone!” Noah holds it above Leila’s head and tries to read the latest replies in the group chat. 

Noah only just finishes reading before Leila snatches his phone from his hand and flicks through the messages, giggling and kicking her legs in the air, “Bobby and Gen are so funny. I can’t wait to meet them.”

Noah tries to hide the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “You’re only allowed to come if you’re good. Now give me my phone back.”

Leila sticks out her tongue and crosses her eyes, “Catch!” She tosses his phone high, and her cheeky grin falls when he grabs it mid-air.

Gen still hadn’t messaged him back, but at least she isn’t so freaked out by his last text that she was still willing to come to his party. The last thing Noah wants is to lose her as a friend. Those walls he had so meticulously constructed around his innermost self were paper thin when he was around her. She unlocked a part of him that he didn’t know could be opened by anyone but his family. It seems bizarre to Noah that he could have such strong feelings towards Gen. He’s so deeply entrenched in the friend zone, one he was more than willing to be in. Her and Lucas were in it for the long haul, and Noah understood he would never know what it felt like to be with her. To kiss her lips. To hold her in his arms as they sleep. 

*

Leila makes a chilli for dinner, and they settle down in the living room together, steaming bowls in their laps, for their new evening routine. 

“We’d best hurry up. Only two days left before your date.”

“It’s not a date.”

Leila ignores him, “You know, we could probably skip most of Casa. Barely anything of interest happened.”

“No chance, I want to see what the girls did!”

She rolls her eyes, “Ugh. Gen spent the whole time missing Bobby and avoiding like three guys who wouldn’t stop pestering her. She slept outside on her own _every single night_.”

“Hope, meanwhile, shared a bed with some Steve Jobs type guy, he _says_ they’d kissed but they didn’t put it in the show, so who knows. She basically pretended to be pining after you the whole time.” 

_Sounds about right._

After Leila had gone to bed last night, he watched some of his scenes with Hope, and finally saw what his little sister was alluding to. In every shared moment, she talked over him and dismissed his opinions as if they were nothing. How had he become so infatuated with someone who was so clearly only interested in winning?

“Great. That’s wonderful,” Noah can’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“We were screaming at the telly when all you did was bang on about how much you missed Hope.” 

“And yet you never said a word when you met her.”

“Not to you. Mum paid us £20 each to keep quiet,” Leila cackles gleefully. 

“ _Wow._ ” 

————

Bobby crawled into his usual bed, and was already snoring away by the time Gen had finished getting ready and snuck back into the room. In her hand was a folded piece of paper, which she slipped under Bobby’s pillow, careful not to disturb him. 

She checked her watch before tip-toeing past the boys towards Henriks bed, to gently shake his shoulders.

“Henrik,” she whispered, her lips close to his ear. He stirred and squinted up at her in the early morning light, “Before we go, I wanted to thank you for covering for Bobby and I last night. I really appreciate it.” 

“No problemo,” he said through an enormous yawn, stretching his arms above his head, “Wait… go where?”

Gen lowered her voice even further, glancing across the room of sleeping boys in beds, now devoid of partners, “The girls got a text, we’re going on a trip. I think it’s Casa Amor!”

Henriks eyes went wide, “Oh wow! So what happens now?” 

“What happens is you go back to sleep and pretend I didn’t tell you anything.”

“That I can do!” 

“Shh you’re so noisy!” Gen stifled a laugh. She quickly regained her composure, and an earnest sincerity swept over her features, “Henrik, if you meet someone you like, I want you to recouple.” 

He frowned, “But what if that puts you in danger?”

She smiled with affection at her new friend, “Don’t worry about me, love. I need to put my faith in Bobby,” She chewed on her lower lip, and cast her eyes over Bobby’s sleeping form, “I can only hope he likes me as much as I like him.” 

Henrik grinned at her and dragged her into a one armed hug, “Aw little one, don’t worry. I’ll talk you up.” 

Gen hugged him back tightly, and whispered into his ear, “Seeing as we’re _such_ good mates now, I should probably tell you something.”

“Hmm?”

Her eyes shone with a mischievous glint, “Succulent isn’t a real word…”

“I knew it!” Henrik roared with laughter and almost immediately he was thumped with a pillow from another bed. Gen took the opportunity to escape before every boy rose from their slumber.

The camera cut to Bobby flipping his pillow over to the cold side. Gen’s tightly folded note was shoved out of place, and it teetered on the edge for a brief moment, before dropping to the floor and rolling underneath the bed. 

**[Iain Stirling: Guys, we should get the SWAT team on standby. I need to know what she wrote in that bloody note!]**

————

“She wrote him a note?” Noah asks, “Does he find it?”

Leila smirks, giving nothing away, “Just wait and see,” she says, as she skips past the whole of Casa Amor, settling on the episode from the day they were reunited. 

————

The new girls had already disappeared from the villa, hidden away somewhere off site awaiting the boy's decision that evening. The boys were scattered around the villa. Noah and Rahim in the gym, Jakub in the beach hut, Bobby in the pool. Gary and Henrik lay on the sun loungers, shielding their eyes from the bright midday light. 

“Have you decided what you’re gonna do tonight?” Gary asked, just as Bobby pulled himself up onto the coping, shaking the water from his hair. 

“Yep,” Henrik said, “I’m switching to Blake.” He grinned, wiggling his eyebrows at Bobby who had whipped his head around. 

“Excuse me?” Bobby hissed. 

“I… I’m switching,” Henrik stammered, while Bobby’s expression darkened, and he jumped up from the coping, turned on his heel and stormed off towards the kitchen.

Henrik exchanged a worried glance with Gary, who shrugged his shoulders. Henrik heaved himself up with a sigh and hurried after Bobby, who was frustratedly searching the cupboards, pulling ingredients out and dumping them on the side. With a heavy thud, a packet of flour drops from Bobby’s arms and bursts, white powder billowing across the decking and his legs.

“Fuck!”

Henrik rounded the island just as Bobby kicked the half empty packet, sending clouds of flour over them both. 

“Bobby, what the fuck?” Henrik yelled, through a series of coughs, “I don’t get it, why are you so angry with me?”

“You’re seriously gonna put Gen in danger for a lass that you’ve known for two fucking minutes?” 

Henrik flinched, “Genevieve told me to pick someone else the morning the girls left. She wanted t-”

“What?” Bobby interjected, “She told you she was going to Casa?”

“Uh, yeah,” Henrik said, shaking flour from his long hair, “She told me she wanted to b-”

Bobby held up his hand, as he spat out his words. “She woke _you_ up, a lad she’d been with for less than twenty-four fucking hours, when she slept with _me_ outside the night before?” Bobby's face glowed pink with anger, “She told _you,_ that she’d be gone for four fucking days to hook up with those blokes in the video and she left me _alone_.”

“ _Piss också_! That video was such bollocks!” Henrik's voice started to raise before he glanced around, obviously aware of their argument drawing attention from the other boys. He stepped towards Bobby, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, “Genevieve _told_ me she wants to be with you!”

“Aye,” Bobby said, sarcasm dripping from his voice, “She’s sure fucking acting like it.”

He turned on his heel and stormed into the villa, leaving Henrik in the chaos, and snow white footprints in his wake.

***

_Genevieve, you’ve been left single. Tell us your thoughts._

“Henrik seems happy, even though Blake is kind of a bitch!” Gen laughed, “I don’t mind at all though, I wanted him to find someone, even if I secretly think he could do better.”

_How do you feel now that you’re back in the main villa?_

“I was so excited to see Bobby, and I thought that maybe he would be too, after the letter I left for him. But we’ve barely spoken tonight,” she said, her expression remained impassive, “I’ll try and catch him before bed.” 

_Will you try to couple up with him again?_

“I didn’t stay loyal throughout Casa for nothing.”

***

_Bobby, are you pleased to be reunited with Genevieve?_

“I wouldn’t call it _reunited,_ ” he let out a frustrated sigh, “We’re not in a couple.”

_So you don’t want to get back together?_

“No, I do, and I’m so happy she came back single. I couldn’t stop myself from smiling at her when I saw her standing there alone, but it doesn’t change everything she did in that video. And I don’t get why she’d say goodbye to Henrik but not me.”

_Will you speak to her tonight?_

“She didn’t bother speaking to me before she left. So nah, not away from the group,” Bobby said, looking down at his hands, “I’m not ready to talk to her yet.”

***

“Can we chat?” Gen called to Bobby from the doorway, just as he jumped into his bed. 

He glanced over at her, but pretended not to hear, snapping his eyes shut and starfishing over the bed. “Ah, I love having a bed to myself! So much room!”

“Oh no, boy, you are _not_ taking a whole bed for yourself!” Lottie said with a stern voice, “Not when there’s so many of us.”

Bobby grinned and rolled onto his side, “Alright then, Lotso. You wanna share? I’ve warmed it up for you.” He patted the space next to him, and she smirked back at him, sliding underneath the duvet next to him.

“Only if you give me a massage to help me sleep,” Lottie replied, making Bobby laugh. 

The camera focused on Gen’s reaction. Her eyes were hard and her set jaw twitched but she didn’t look away. It’s only when Bobby slowly leaned over to kiss Lottie’s cheek and hug her to him, that Gen’s lips parted, forming a small and silent _o,_ before she disappeared outside into the dark.

***

Priya found her by the firepit, warming her hands over the dying embers. Priya stood behind Gen, and wrapped her arms around her waist, resting her chin upon the smaller woman’s shoulder. Gen leaned back against her friend and sniffed.

“You smell like mangoes, Pri.” 

“I know. Gorgeous, right?”

“Lovely,” Gen said, without her usual pretty smile.

Priya pulled Gen around to look her in the eye, “You’re upset about Bobby sharing with Lottie?” 

Gen nodded, and Priya sighed, “C’mon girl. I bet he’s only doing it to make you jealous.” 

Gen shook her head. “I thought he’d _want_ to sleep with me. We both came back single! Why is he refusing to talk to me?” 

Priya brushed Gen’s hair from her face, “Gary said they got a video like the one we got. They saw all of us taking part in the challenges, and a few of the boys got a bit worked up. Even Bobby.” 

“He said he doesn’t get jealous, why would he do that?” Gen blinked in shock. “Surely he would’ve known it was a challenge!” She turned back to the firepit, “He can’t have read my letter and thought I’d hook up with guys a few hours later.” 

“Your letter?” Priya asked, head tilted and eyes wide.

Gen didn’t respond, and Priya chucked her chin with a crooked finger, “Come to bed,” she said in her soothing voice, “Talk to him in the morning.” 

“Ugh, does this mean I have to share with Gary now?” Gen complained, “He’s a sweetheart, but I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that.”

Priya giggled and linked arms with her friend, “Share with me, we’ll kick Noah into Gary’s bed.”

Gen nodded, and they tip-toed back into the villa, just as droplets of rain started to fall to the ground. Everyone else was fast asleep, and the only sounds were the echoes of Noah’s and Lottie’s snores. Priya leaned over in the darkness and tried to quietly wake Noah up, but he wouldn’t stir even when she pinched his earlobe, he just swatted her hand away and rolled over. Gen clasped a hand over her mouth to stop a laugh escaping when Priya glanced up at her in desperation. 

“Jesus, he sleeps like the dead!”

“He’s not gonna wake up, is he?”

“What are we gonna do?” Priya whispered, peering out the window, “I don’t want to sleep with Gary either, and it’s really pissing it down out there now.”

Gen started to unstrap her mic, so her next words went unheard, but her sleepy expression had a tinge of amusement to it. Priya shrugged in response, “fine by me babe, but can you go in the middle? I can’t sleep when I’m too hot.”

They slipped under the sheets, Gen first, back to back with Noah, scooting close to make room for Priya, who wrapped a long arm around Gen’s shoulders, “I’m so glad I’ve got you, Pri. You’re the only bitch in this house I ever respected,” Gen nuzzled her friend's cheek, eliciting a quiet, goofy chuckle. 

“Did you just quote a meme?”

Gen smiled sleepily in response, and hugged Priya close. That was until Noah rolled over yet again. His arm fell across Gen’s waist, and he muttered something too quiet for the microphones to pick up. Gen sniggered.

“What did he say?” Priya asked. 

“He said _‘don’t worry mum, something something nicer when you get to know her’_ ,” Gen craned her neck to look at Noah, and her eyes crinkled with affection, “Bless him, he’s such a sweetheart.”

Priya arched an eyebrow, “sure, if you like pushovers.” 

Gen’s head whipped back around, “Be nice,” she whispered, and poked Priya’s cheek gently, “I think they just bring out the worst in each other, but they’re both too stubborn to give in. I just wish Hope would stop pushing this _power couple_ rhetoric. They barely listen to each other.” 

“You could tell him,” Priya said through a yawn. 

“I’m not going to stir up drama. There’s no point,” Gen replied sadly, “He’s infatuated. I’m not Hope’s biggest fan, but I can see why he likes her. She’s beautiful, and strong. They won’t last, but we’ll just have to be there for them when it’s over.”

————

The girls fall asleep quickly after their conversation, and it’s there that Leila presses pause before skipping off to the kitchen, leaving Noah alone with his thoughts.

He knew he woke up alone in bed the next morning. It was normal for him to be one of the last to get up, so he thought nothing of it at the time. The only vivid memory he has of that morning is of frantically looking around for Hope. He knew she’d be annoyed with him having to share with Priya for a second night. 

Knowing that Gen had discussed her thoughts on his relationship so openly with someone else, while laid _so_ close to him, inexplicably twists his stomach into knots. Why wouldn’t she say anything to him? She did nothing but encourage his relationship with Hope.

Noah is half tempted to say _something_ to Gen, but when he pulls out the phone he’s reminded yet again of his unanswered message from yesterday. The tension in his chest blows out of him with a heavy sigh, and he resolves to let it go. He already needed to fix one issue, he had little inclination to make it worse for himself.

_No one told you what they really thought of Hope. No one. It’s not Gen’s fault._

Noah looks back at the TV, and his own arm draped over Gen and the little smile playing on her lips as she drifts off to sleep. Noah can’t help but wish he had known she was there at the time. 

He’s just about to tuck his phone back into his pocket, when it dings again, and for the first time in twenty four hours that he hopes it isn’t Gen. With a frustrated sigh he turns the phone over in his hand, now contemplating how he can avoid bringing up the conversation he had just seen.

But it’s not her. It’s not her, and the message makes his stomach flip over. His mouth goes dry, drier than dry, like sand out of reach from the tide. Like muscle memory, Noah’s fingers are quick to open the message, and it’s only when he begins his furious reply that his mind catches up. He locks his phone, and spins it across the floor and disappears under the sofa.

_Good_. _Out of sight._

Leila shuffles back over from the kitchen carrying a tray groaning with the sheer weight of the snacks and drinks she’s gathered. She stops in her tracks, taking in the sight of Noah, chin propped on tightly clasped hands, pale and unblinking.

“Jesus, what the fuck happened?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you like this little bit of backstory for Gen! Is there anything you’re curious to see next?
> 
> Thank you so so so much for all your lovely comments, I can’t put into words how my heart skips when I read them. It gives me the motivation to keep writing 🥺🥰
> 
> Also thank you to u/lilyboopqueenie and u/xhalia00 for their edits, thoughts and support! 
> 
> ————
> 
> 💛 If you’re a FF writer, reader, or artist, come and join us on reddit to chat. We’re on r/LITGFanFiction 💛


	10. Peace Offering

Peace Offering

**  
November**

  
He stood on the doorstep listening intently for the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway. Thirty seconds go by, and nothing. He rings the doorbell again, his palms sweating now. Still nothing. He presses the doorbell again and knocks.

_One last time._

At last he hears the locks click and the door opens, just a crack, and her sisters’ face fills the space. 

“Hi Blessing,” he says. “Is she in?”

“She doesn’t want to see you, Noah.” Blessing replies, a look of pity washes over her. “It’s over.”

“Why though?” he says, dejected. "What did I do?”

Loud, hurried whispers echo down the hallway, and although Noah can’t see who the unintelligible whispers come from, he knows that it’s Hope. His stomach sinks. The woman he had spent the last few months with, for better or worse, who he had given up his privacy and his dignity on international television for, had cut him from her life without giving a reason. She had dodged his texts and calls for two weeks, and suddenly he was blocked. He couldn’t even leave a fucking voicemail. 

Coming to her house was a last ditch attempt. Not to get her back, no, not that. He needs _closure._ Throughout his whole romantic history, Noah had missed clues, signals, and misinterpreted so many conversations as a result, and he wasn’t about to let that happen. Not again. If he knew why he kept fucking up his relationships, and why women became so frustrated with him, he could fix it. He could fix himself. 

And now here they are, only six feet and a door between them, and Hope won’t even speak to him. Was it _that_ bad? Their passion fizzled out quickly after the villa, and all that was left was a shared experience between them and frequent, heated arguments. Was the broken mug, the subject of their last explosive argument, the breaking point, or just one of many? If it weren’t for the villa, would they have ever got together if they had met on the outside? Could it just have been that environment that forced a pairing that was clearly so mismatched? Noah has no idea. 

The younger woman turns to look back into the hallway, and he sees the back of her head nod. She turns back to face him, still wearing that sad, pitiful look. She lifts the chain off the door, opening it just a hair more, and she moves outside to join him on the doorstep. The door closes behind her with a click, and she sits on the step, patting the empty space next to her. He sank down onto the cold step. 

Blessing is two years younger than Hope, the middle child, and the most placid of the three Campbell girls. She didn’t get along all that well with Hope. In a strange way, Blessing reminded him of Genevieve, always thinking of others and hearing them out, but she took offence to Hope’s railroading, and her need to be the centre of attention. They would bicker about Hope talking over people, and how she would twist other people’s stories to make it about her. But Blessing and Hope were always loyal to one another. If an outside force came at them, they would always stick together. As sisters do. 

They sit in silence for a while, and Noah shivers. He kicks himself for not bringing a coat, though he isn’t sure if he’s wringing his hands due to the cold or his nerves. Out of the corner of his eye, the curtains twitch, and he so wants to look, but he keeps his eyes trained on Blessing, who looks as drained as he feels. She broke the silence first. “Hope says it’s been coming for a while. She says you should’ve known.” It wasn’t a statement as such, more of a question.

“I guess I knew it was coming. But I didn’t think she’d cut me off without an explanation.”

“She has been ghosting you then?” Blessing says with a grimace. “I thought she’d grown out of that. I’m sorry, Noah.”

“Hope’s done this before?”

She acknowledges this with the smallest of nods, but she doesn’t elaborate. There was a brief silence, before Noah says, “Can you tell her I’m sorry? I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry that I hurt her.”

Blessing chews on her lip, and darts her eyes to the window. In a hushed whisper, she says “I don’t think you’re the issue. Hope has some insecurities, and she feels really shitty about the way that came across in the villa. But when she feels guilty, she lashes out instead of dealing with it.”

Noah looks down at his feet, brow knotted in thought. It makes sense, what Blessing is saying, but he can’t help thinking that he deserved this treatment somehow. That something he did had to have triggered this sequence of non-events. Noah finds himself wishing that Hope would come out of her house, and end their relationship here and now on the doorstep, with some semblance of respect. She had to know ghosting him would hurt him deeply. To never have the chance to put their relationship in a box and put it away for good... it didn’t feel right. It would always be left unfinished. 

“You know you two aren’t right for each other,” Blessing says, and touches her hand to his shoulder. A brief, yet comforting touch. She let go as she pushed herself up from the step, brushing the dust from her pyjama bottoms. In her kind voice she says, “Go home now, Noah. Let it be.” 

  
—————

**Present Day  
**

Upon reading her messages, it’s as though the floor drops out from underneath him. A cold feeling of unease creeps under his skin, rushing through his veins. He can feel it, despite what he told Leila, despite all he told _himself_... he’s not free of Hope yet.

_Why is she messaging me? Why now?_

When he finally felt like he had started to move on, and had begun to see the stark ways in which they were mismatched from the very beginning. The unanswered questions he had asked himself weeks ago surfaced quickly, rising up inside him like bile. He felt like he must have deserved it, why else would she act so coldly towards him if she weren’t provoked?  
  


“She cannot be fucking serious?” Leila hisses. She snatches his phone from his hands and starts typing manically. Noah just lets it happen, staring blankly at the image of his sister typing out an expletive filled rant to his ex girlfriend, as though detached from his own body. Leila is mumbling random phrases under her breath as she types, and then she pauses. She looks up at Noah and her expression pinches up. If it were another situation, Noah might have even laughed at the way she looks right now, Leila’s angry face is almost comical. Her lips twist, contemplating something, and after a few seconds she places the phone back in Noah’s hand. “Shall I send this?”

He looks down and the words swim on the screen. He barely reads the full message, but it’s rammed with _how dare you’s_ and _what gives you the right’s._ Leila nudges him. “Well?” she says, “She deserves more than this, Noah. After all she did to you.” She reaches out, and wipes his cheek with her sleeve, and it’s only then that he realises they’re wet.

He blinks, managing to shake his head. “No,” he croaks out, and clears his throat. “Just ignore her.” 

Leila opens her mouth and quickly closes it again, clamping her lips shut between her teeth. A short forced breath makes her nostrils flare, and she opens her mouth again, her voice softer this time, “Fine, yeah, best not to dignify her with a response, right?” She switches the phone to silent.

Noah nods, unwilling to say that he only doesn’t want to reply to protect his own feelings, unwilling to admit that he has no backbone, and lose the respect of his little sister. Though Leila is a sleuth and probably already aware. That slither of respect she had left for him is probably long gone. 

The siblings slump back on the sofa, uncomfortably silent. Noah ignores Leila’s nervous glances, and after a few minutes he lets loose a heavy sigh. He needs a distraction, something - _anything_ \- that could keep this heavy weight from caving in his chest. Relief floods through him when Leila takes control, linking her pinky finger with his, and flicking the TV back on. 

Noah stiffens, remembering that the next episode focuses heavily on his and Hope’s reunion, one of the few times they ever talked out their issues. Leila is careful to avoid those scenes, while watching for any kind of reaction from her oldest brother. She finally finds a scene that doesn’t focus on their relationship, Gen and Henrik catching up on the day beds, and clicks play. 

—————

“Hey little one,” Henrik said, with two steaming mugs in his hand. “Peace offering?”

Gen graced him with her wide, genuine smile, and she took the mug from his outstretched arm gratefully. She patted the bed next to her, and Henrik climbed in carefully, to avoid spilling his tea. 

“I’m sorry about how things went down, Genevieve.” 

“You did nothing wrong, love,” she replied softly, like a mother reassuring a small child. “I told you to recouple if you met someone, and you did. I’m really happy for you.”

They smiled at each other, and it’s evident there was a quiet trust between them. They sipped at their tea in silence, watching Bobby entertain the rest of the group by the beanbags. 

“Do you think you’ll get back together?” Henrik asked, breaking the silence between them.

“I don’t know. I wanted to. I missed him the whole time we were away.” Gen blew air out through her lips. “But he’s barely said a word to me since I got back.”

She stared straight ahead at Bobby, who met her gaze for the briefest of moments before snapping his eyes away. Henrik stayed silent, waiting for Gen to continue.

After a few moments, she said, “I left a letter under his pillow, y’know. Before I left. I thought he felt the same way.” Her words are melancholic but strangely without bitterness. 

Henrik furrowed his brow, fixing her with a quizzical look. “A letter?”

“It doesn’t matter now,” she replied, waving the question away. “Clearly I made a mistake.”

“I think he still likes you though. He blew up at me yesterday when I said I was switching to Blake.”

“Really?” Gen looked taken aback. She shuffled around on the bed to face him, crossing her legs and leaning close. “Tell me _everything_.”

Henrik recounted the argument in the kitchen and when he finished, he looked behind her towards the group and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Don’t look now, but Bobby is staring at us.” 

The camera cut to Bobby, who was ignoring the conversation around him, and his eyes burned as he stared at the pair whispering together on the daybed. 

***

Bobby and Priya were in the kitchen, glasses in hand, waiting for the rest of the group to finish getting ready for the dumping. She leaned against the counter as Bobby topped up their wine. 

“Bobby,” Priya said abruptly, “we need to talk about Gen.”

“No thanks,” Bobby replied, his expression surly. 

Priya reached over to flick him on the forehead. “Stop with the pity party! If you want her back then you have to actually tell her,” she paused to take a sip of wine. “Don’t you remember our chat, after the talent show?”

His shoulders visibly stiffened. “I don’t want to think about this now, Priya. Not when there’s a dumping to worry about.” 

Priya scowled and flicked him again. Hard. “Ow!” Bobby rubbed his forehead, “will you stop that! Gen has spent the whole time playing me off against other lads.”

“Excuse me?” Priya blustered, “Gen was loyal to you at Casa. Not Henrik. You!” She jabbed a long manicured finger into his chest. “She slept outside every night, and banged on about how excited she was to see you. She whined the whole time, and quite frankly, she was really fucking annoying.”

Bobby’s eyes widened at this, opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish. Eventually, he said, “but she only said goodbye to Henrik.”

Priya rolled her eyes. “Yes, to tell him to recouple if he met someone because she was happy with you, you dick!” The sound of voices came from the villa, and Priya leaned in, motioning to Bobby to do the same, and when he copied her, her voice lowered to a whisper. “Was her letter that bad that you won’t make up?”

Bobby looked puzzled. “Huh? She didn’t write me a letter.”

“She definitely did. Last night she said something like ‘how could he think I’d get with a load of guys after he read my letter.’ You didn’t see it?”

“Err no, because I didn’t get one! She was probably talking about Henrik.” 

“Shut up about Henrik, Bobby! They’re just friends. She’s into you!” Priya said, now fully exasperated. “It would all be fine if you’d get your head out of your arse and talk to the girl!” Bobby said nothing, he just gave Priya his puppy dog eyes until she let up. “Okay,” Priya continued, “clearly we’re missing something. Let me go find Henr-“ 

Priya was cut off by the sound of heels clacking on the decking, and Gen rounded the corner. Her eyes darted between the pair huddled close, and granted Bobby a small, sad smile, before saying, “five minute warning, guys.”

Gen turned to leave, but the cogs turning in Priya’s mind were evident on her face, and she called out to her friend, “Gen, wait! We’re getting a little stressed-“ Bobby dug a sharp elbow into her side, “-about the dumping. Come help me take my mind off it?”

Gen brightened at the invitation, but still shot a shy glance towards Bobby. “Sure, Pri. What did you have in mind?”

“We need to hype ourselves up. Pick a song, Genevieve. Anything, so long as it’s a banger! Sing off, Bobby. Right now.”

Gen beamed. “Only because I’ve heard you singing this in the shower, and I reckon Bobby could do better,” she said, poking her tongue out at Priya. “ _Work It_.”

“Yes! Missy is the OG!”

Gen grabbed two wooden spoons from the drawer and pulled herself up onto the island, sitting cross legged on the countertop. The corners of Bobby’s lips twitched up, he could never resist a competition, everyone knew it. “Alright, I’m in. Ladies first.”

The pair took their positions opposite Gen, and she waited for their signal to begin. Gen started to tap out the rhythm with her makeshift drumsticks on the granite surface, timing Priya in, who flipped her hair back dramatically and sashayed forward.

_DJ please_

_Pick up your phone_

_I’m on the request line_

_Come on_

_Is it worth it? Lemme work it_

_I put my thing down flip it and reverse it_

_ISS YURR FWEMINIPPI FWEN NYET TMUP_

Gen snorted at Priya mumbling through the last line, making Bobby burst out laughing despite his foul mood. Gen ended up losing her rhythm for a few beats, but no one seemed bothered. They still avoided looking at each other, Gen’s face burned red as she tried to focus on Priya’s next verse, and Bobby turned his shy smile to the ground, but for the first time since they were back in the same villa, they looked almost happy to be around one another again. 

Bobby took over at the chorus, and the girls bobbed their heads along to his rendition. He copied Priya’s hip wiggles and hair flicking, much to their amusement. He stumbled over the words at first but Bobby finished strong, and he took a deep bow as Gen and Priya clapped in unison.

The trio were called over to the fire pit then by the rest of the group, anxiously waiting for the results of the public vote. Priya flashed Bobby an encouraging smile and dashed off to join the other islanders. Gen held back, wringing her hands, with a question dancing on her lips. She took a half-step towards Bobby, who froze like a deer caught in the headlights. They watched each other apprehensively for a moment, and then their words spill out quickly, at the same time. As Bobby said, “I missed you-” Gen asked, “are we okay?”

She blinked, confused, and said, “You’ve avoided me ever since I got back.” 

Bobby sighed, facing his feet and peeking at her through his eyelashes. “I know, I’m sorry lass. Can we chat later?”

She regarded him, perplexed, but she nodded slowly, just as Hope shouted over to them, “Guys! We’re all waiting!” The pair flashed each other a look, full of cautious optimism, wanting, and words unspoken. They made their way over to the fire pit, and positioned themselves next to each other, arms hanging loosely at their sides. As the first _ding_ sounded, the camera caught Bobby’s hand moving slowly, tentatively, to brush the back of Gen’s fingers with his own.

  
  


***

Henrik and Chelsea were comforting Gen in the bathroom after the mass dumping, and her heart-wrenching goodbye scene with Priya. The blonde pair talked in hushed tones by the door while Gen washed her face over the sink, clearing away her streaked mascara and make up from blotchy-red cheeks. 

A knock echoed through the room, and Chelsea threw Gen a worried look before opening the door an inch. She exchanged whispers with the unidentified knocker, before she nodded and slipped out the room, pulling Henrik along with her. Gen didn’t notice, she was drying her face with a towel, and when she pulled it away Bobby had already stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Her eyes narrowed when Bobby moved towards her, arms outstretched. She stepped back quickly, out of his reach, and Bobby flinched, letting his arms hang in the air a little too long.

“You’re upset with me?”

Gen scowled and turned away from him. “Yes. I’m upset.” 

Bobby’s shoulders sagged, and he leaned against the sink next to Gen’s. “Because I saved Hope?”

“Because you _didn’t_ save Priya!” Her voice was shrill, and Bobby flinched again, and this time he scowled back at her. 

Defensively, he said, “I did it for Noah, y’know. He and Hope want to be together. I thought you’d have wanted what’s best for the group!”

“Oh please,” Gen scoffed. “Hope is anything but good for the group, and anyone who thinks their relationship is anything but toxic is deluded.”

“So I’m deluded now?” Bobby snapped back.

“Well you must be!” She gave a sharp laugh, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Actually, that makes sense. I heard you still think I hooked up with people at Casa. You must be deluded if you really thought I’d behave that way after what I wrote you.”

Bobby opened his mouth to argue, but stopped, and instead he said quietly, “What you ‘wrote me’?”

Gen didn’t appear to have heard him, and her lip wobbled as she spoke. “If you didn’t feel the same way you should’ve just told me. I don’t deserve to be fucked about like this. All your little smiles, and touches, and then you avoid talking to me and you share a bed with Lottie, when _I_ was single too! When I was so excited to be with you again!” Bobby looked down at his feet, suddenly and clearly ashamed. Gen continued, evidently her anger was keeping her going, “What was that about? I looked like such a twat standing there watching you two talking about massages.”

Bobby’s head snapped up, his cheeks red and eyes aflame. Bitterly, he replied, “how could you look like a _twat_ if no one even knew we were together? You never let anyone see us kiss, let alone anything else!”

“Forgive me for wanting to keep my relationship private!” Gen was quiet, but the venom in her voice was unmistakable. 

“You shouldn’t have come on a _fucking_ dating show, then!” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Fuck _you_!” 

Gen stormed past Bobby, and she wrenched open the door, slamming it behind her. Bobby threw his middle finger up and shook it at the closed door. Quickly, silently, he sank to the floor and buried his head in his hands.

—————

Leila pauses the recording and drops the remote into her lap. “Are you okay watching this? It’s not, like, triggering you?”

“Bloody hell, Lala. I’m not that delicate.” 

In truth focusing on someone else’s drama was a good distraction, even though it was months old, and he was pretty sure they had resolved their issues now. Gen and Bobby _were_ friends now… weren’t they? Noah reaches over for his phone, and Leila grabs his wrist.

“You’re not texting her back, are you? We agreed on the silent treatment.” 

“We didn’t _agree_ on anything. But no, I’m not. I’m texting Bobby.”

A thought occurs to Noah, and his fingers are lightening fast.

  
  


_Is this one of his jokes?_ _Or does he mean-_

Leila coughs. She’s loaded up the next scene. “Are you ready?” She says, and she presses play before he even has a chance to answer.

—————

The next episode picks up on the Islanders waking up the next day. Gen lay alone in bed, her eyes still bloodshot from the night before and probably a restless nights sleep. 

She gave an encouraging smile to Henrik, as he and Chelsea quietly made plans to swim together that morning. Noah and Hope stood too, to slip away in the direction of the kitchen under the guise of making tea, and both pairs giggled like shy school children on their way out of the bedroom, leaving the rest of the group in their beds, chatting away happily. Gen was the only one who didn't join in the conversation, and Bobby kept shooting her nervous glances that she didn't return. She didn’t look angry like she was the night before. If anything she seemed full of thought, picking at a loose thread on her blanket absentmindedly. 

Eventually Bobby slipped out of bed, and announced he was making pancakes. He tried catching her eye and loudly, pointedly, asked for a sous chef. And just as Gen smiled hesitantly and met his almost hopeful gaze, Lottie’s hand shot up from a bed on the other side of the room. Gen fixed Bobby with a look, clearly waiting to see if he would oppose Lottie’s offer and ask her instead. Of course, he didn’t. He just gaped between the two women, an oblivious Lottie and a now silently displeased Genevieve. 

She watched carefully masking the hurt on her face, as Bobby and Lottie left the bedroom together, and when the door closed behind them, Gen slumped down on her pillow and pulled the duvet over her head. 

***

_Are you okay, Genevieve? It seems like there’s a lot on your mind._

“Has it really just been three weeks?”

_Just under three weeks, Genevieve. Why do you ask?_

“It just seems like such a short amount of time for me to be so invested.” Gen looks so small in the chair. She hugged her knees to her chest and she looked exhausted. She was wearing a gold cut-out dress for the evening, but she hadn’t bothered with her make up. “How come I’m so hurt over a boy I barely know?”

_Are you and Bobby finished now?_

“I think we have to be, don’t we? After that argument last night, and then pancakegate this morning.” She kicked off her shoes, and her voice trembled as she spoke again, “he’s out there now playing judge and having a grand old time. I don’t think he’s as bothered as I am.”

_Maybe he’s waiting for you to apologise first._

Gen nodded slowly. “Maybe. I’ll try in the morning. Right now I just want to sleep.” 

Without waiting for approval to leave, Gen picked up her shoes and made her way out of the beach hut. The group were sitting around the fire pit laughing along with Bobby, dressed up in Lottie’s cape and a tea towel upon his head. Only Chelsea caught sight of Gen darting barefoot across the grass towards the villa. Her breezy smile dropped, and she nudged Henrik, who followed Chelsea’s concerned eyes to see Gen slipping through the open doors. Henrik shrugged, who mouthed ‘ _Bobby_ ’ back at him with wide eyes. He nodded, and the pair made their excuses to go back into the villa, while the rest of the group argued over the mysterious purring noise.

—————

“God, I’m not listening to this anymore,” Leila complains. “I love Gen, but she doesn’t half whine a lot.” She skips past the last twenty minutes, and fast forwards through episode twenty and the arrival of Jo and Elisa. 

“You are focusing on the dramatic miserable bits.”

“That’s all they showed. For drama, init.” Leila mumbles through a mouthful of wine gums. She’s already picked out the purple ones for him, which Noah takes from her outstretched palm.

Popping one in his mouth, he says, “Well, I had some great times with her. We talked about our favourite books, and she’d teach me stuff in Spanish. We’d just have a laugh.”

Suddenly interested, Leila asks, “What did she teach you?” 

Noah racks his brain for his favourite one, the only one he could pronounce.

“One was _Encontrase como un pulpo en un garaje._ It means to feel like an octopus in a garage.” Noah chuckles at Leila’s confusion. “She said that’s what we were, Gen and I, while we were on the show. Out of place. Overwhelmed.”

Leila settles on episode twenty-one, the girls day, and chews on another wine gum, thinking hard. “Like a fish out of water?”

“Exactly.”

She smirks at him then. “I guess you kind of were,” and she squeals when the cushion Noah throws at her lands with a satisfying _thwack._

His phone buzzes and he digs it out from his pocket. Two missed calls, both from Hope. He’s just glad he didn’t notice her ringing at the time. One last text from her.   
  


_She’s got some nerve._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies on the lateness of this chapter, everything’s a lot more hectic than usual lately. 
> 
> For anyone interested in what Serendipity looks like in my head, I made a Pinterest board - https://pin.it/BNvZeeD 😂 I don’t know why I do these things.
> 
> Once again thank you to my lovely u/lilyboopqueenie for her thoughts and edits ❤️
> 
> And thank you all so much for reading this story. I love all of your comments! Every single one makes me so happy 🥰
> 
> If you’ve just started reading my fic, don’t worry, you’re not late! We’ve got a way to go yet. 
> 
> Please come join us on the subreddit r/LITGFanFiction 💛 we’re a friendly bunch and we do fortnightly features for fics!


	11. FaceTime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's been a hot minute since I last updated. I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, but I've spent so long deleting and re-writing that I just need to be done with this part, so I'm really sorry for that. I'll try not to take so long on future chapters.
> 
> A huge huge thank you to lovely Suchi for her support and edits! <3

FaceTime

He’d forgotten to draw the curtains. Blurry white lights flicker through the window and as they swim into focus through his one half open eye, he realises it’s just the reflection of his alarm clock. Noah reaches out to his bedside table and spins the clock to face him. Ugh. It’s nearly three in the morning. He groans, pulling the duvet over his head, shutting out the chill from the room. For a few minutes he tries to find comfort in different positions but the bedsheet is coming loose and bunching up around his feet. He kicks at it in frustration, before throwing the duvet off, lying straight in the bed and staring up at his ceiling. 

In the quiet of the early hours, Hope’s messages from last night come to the forefront of his mind. He can’t help but wonder if it would be worth meeting her. He might get closure, after all. But this is Hope. Who really knows what she’s thinking? 

Leila’s loud snores filter through the shared wall, distracting him from his thoughts. She certainly takes after both of her brothers. Noah would never get back to sleep now. It takes a lot to wake him but once he’s disturbed, he’s up for hours.

He sits up, leaning back against the headboard, and checks his phone. Hope hadn’t messaged him again, thank God. It took all of his energy to stop Leila replying to the last text Hope had sent. She completely lost it. She was furious in a way that only teenage girls can be. And when Noah finally managed to wrestle his phone out of her grip, she screamed at him, screamed that he was spineless, that he was pathetic, as if not even a few hours before she had agreed that ignoring Hope was the best option. She had stormed off to Gabe’s room and slammed the door so hard the walls shook. Shortly after, Noah had dragged himself to bed. Not that his fitful rest lasted long. 

He leans over and reaches for his laptop, he might as well watch the next episode. It’s not like there’s anything else to do at this time of night.

_Which episode was next? Twenty? Twenty-one?_

Noah tries casting his mind back to the summer. Day twenty was when Jo and Elisa arrived. He groans. Eager to skip the drama of the Shannon-Rahim-Jo triangle, he selects the twenty-first episode instead. Girl’s Day, the day Gen pulled a sickie and hid away in the bedroom. 

\--------

  
  


**[Iain Stirling: While most of the girls squeal about the spa day, Genevieve looks like she’s been dragged backwards through a hedge! This isn’t your week, is it hun?]**

Gen stood in the doorway of the dressing room watching the other girls, still in her #cherrygate pyjamas, with puffy eyes and tangled hair sticking up at odd angles. She clearly hadn’t slept well. Shannon made a snide comment about Jo, and the girls instantly started on each other. 

The camera focused on Gen, who rolled her eyes dramatically and left the room, whispering, “It’s too early for this fucking shit.”

**[Iain Stirling: It turns out Genevieve has a bad head, so instead of spending the day with her pals at the spa, she’ll be resting. Can we get an ‘awww’ for ickle poorly Genevieve everyone? I would give her my sympathies, but seeing as the girls started fighting the minute they woke up, I’d say she’s got the better deal!]**

The camera followed the girls getting ready without Gen, and only Chelsea came to say goodbye to her before leaving for the spa with the rest of the girls. Gen slipped back into her bed, next to a still snoozing Henrik, and fell back to sleep until the lights came on. 

***

“Budge over.”

Gen squinted in the bright light of day, and upon seeing Noah stood over her with two steaming mugs, she shuffled over to one side to make room for him. When she pulled herself up to sit, Noah handed her the mug and clambered in next to her. They clinked mugs, and she took a tentative sip, grimacing as soon as the tea hit her tongue.

“Noah, did you forget the teabag?”

“No… why?”

Gen pulls a face. “Don’t get me wrong Noah, I appreciate the effort, but this tastes like hot watery milk.”

Noah laughed and nudged her with his shoulder. “We can’t all be Bobby with the tea skills.” 

“No,” Gen said, rolling her eyes. “And thank God we aren’t. Wouldn’t billions of Bobby’s just drive each other crazy?”

“Maybe. I doubt our species would’ve made it out of the caves.” 

Gen snorted. “I’m mad at him, don’t say things that will make me feel sorry for him!”

“Wait,” Noah said, curiously. “Why are you mad with Bobby?”

**[IS:] Is every man on this Island totally blind? Can’t they hear me screaming from the shed? Noah! Buddy, come on!**

She started tracing circles upon the duvet. “It doesn’t matter, really. In the grand scheme of things. I came here for friends, and I’ve already lost Priya.”

Noah frowned. “What are you talking about? Even if we make it to the final, we’ll be here...what two more weeks? You haven’t lost her at all.”

“Shit. Is that it?” Gen slumped further down in the bed, eyes wide and questioning. “Oh my God, I feel so stupid. Ignore me!”

“Time feels different here, right?” 

“It really does.” 

They talk for a while, sipping at their tea, content with the company. Gen slipped her arm through the crook of his and leaned against his shoulder. “Thanks for sitting with me,” she said softly. “You really make me feel better.” 

Noah smiled proudly at his friend, who looked up at him through her lashes, and he leaned his head against the top of hers. “That’s okay,” he replied, wrapping an arm around her narrow shoulders, stroking her arm with his thumb. “We all need a bit of TLC when we’re poorly.”

“Hmm, yeah,” she said sheepishly, before quickly changing the subject. “How’re you and Hope?”

“We’re really good.” Noah sighed happily. “I didn’t know it could be like this.”

Gen dropped her eyes to her lap, pursing her lips. She started picking at her fingernails, her disapproval evident on her expression, unbeknownst to the man her head laid upon. “Wow. Sounds serious.”

“I think it could be.”

Her eyebrow twitched but she didn’t say a word in response, and Noah took her silence as a cue to keep talking… talking about his newfound appreciation of Hope. He droned on about her tenacity and passion and enthusiasm. And all the while Gen’s expression grew more sullen.

“C-mon, get up,” Noah said, patting her arm when they’d finished their tea. “Go shower, you’ll feel better. When you’re done, I’ll do your hair like I do Leila’s.” 

“Yeah?” Gen replied with sparkling eyes, her mood brightening. He nodded, and she passed him her empty mug before she clambered out of bed and skipped off to the bathroom with a burst of energy she didn’t have before.

  
  


\--------

Pause. That’s too much. She laid there next to him, letting him spill his heart out about the wrong woman. She let him humiliate himself on international television for what purpose? Scrolling through his messages, he checks Gen’s again. Three dots. He blinks, and they’re gone.

_Wait… that can’t be right._

Noah rubs the sleep from his eyes. It must be his tired mind playing tricks on him. He feels a distinct need to tell her about what Hope had said. After all, Gen was the one he talked to most in the villa. It was her who Noah had called first after his non-break up with Hope. It was her who had a read on their relationship from the beginning, and yet she never said anything to him. Not a word. It stings to think they weren’t as close as he thought they were. Impulsively, Noah starts typing out a message. 

**__ **

Gen’s image flashes up within seconds. _Why is she so obsessed with FaceTime?_ Noah frantically combs through his hair with his fingers and pulls the duvet back over his chest before he answers the call. 

“Hey! I’m so sor-” 

“Don’t apologise, Noah, I was already up.” Gen says, though she’s yawning and she looks ready for bed. She’s in fluffy pyjamas, with her hair knotted on top of her head, and wearing wire rimmed glasses. Noah can’t remember ever seeing her in those before. 

“You can’t sleep either?”

Gen shakes her head, taking a quick sip from a mug. Clearly she doesn’t want to talk about what’s keeping her up. It looks like she’s sitting at a desk cradling a steaming mug, curled up in an office chair much too big for her. Behind her, guitars are mounted on a wall covered in framed posters and vinyls. 

“Tell me about Hope,” she says, pushing her glasses up her nose.

Noah tries to relay the information but his thoughts are incoherent and he stumbles over his words. Though there isn’t much to tell, Gen listens and studies his face intently. Her lips curl in disapproval when he mentions Hope’s instruction to meet at the cafe. 

“Will you go?” 

“I don’t know,” Noah replies. “Do you think I should?” 

She regards him, tilting her head a little to the side. She looks so much like a puppy when she does this, it’s all Noah can do to stop himself from smiling despite his current state of unease. 

“I can’t decide this for you, Noah.”

_No. Maybe not. But you’ll sit and judge everything I do silently._

“Why do you do this?” Noah says, avoiding looking at the screen. His heart thumps in his chest. He’s not used to being the first to confront a person, only ever disclosing his frustrations with anyone in response to their complaints, so he’s careful not to make it sound like an accusation. “You tell other people what you think about my relationship, but you don’t tell me.”

Gen lets out a shaky, confused laugh. “Excuse me?”

“Last night I watched the episode when you and Priya got into bed with me,” he says, his voice as level as he can make it. The last thing he needs now is to cause another fall out, “and you laid there, next to me, talking about my relationship. But you never said any of that to my face.”

She doesn’t reply, so Noah continues, still measuring his words. “When the rest of the girls went to the beach, I laid in bed with you and you let me ramble on about my perfect relationship. I didn’t notice your face twisting up at the time. Why didn’t you say anything?”

Still, she remains silent but at least she has the decency to look contrite. 

“If you’d told me what you actually thought,” Noah says hotly, his temper finally starting to rise at her unwillingness to respond. “I might have seen things more clearly before it went too far. I would’ve listened to you.”

Gen takes another sip from her mug. A long one. Like she’s stalling. Eventually, she says, “Would you though? Nothing anyone said pulled you apart for long. There were so many red flags on both sides.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You basically said it yourself, Noah. You’re so wrapped up in your own head. I think you only see the good in people until it’s screaming the opposite in your face.” Her sharp words are like a knife in his belly, and contempt rises up hot inside him. 

“So, what? I’m just a pushover?” Noah retorts, his cheeks and ears flushing red. 

“Would you stop putting words in my mouth?” Gen snaps back, slamming her mug down on the desk. “Fuck you, blaming me for your failed relationship when you didn’t even notice what was happening in mine.” 

“You never told me about that eith-,” 

“Well, why should I?”

“Because we’re friends!” His voice is resonating now, and Leila snorts in her sleep on the other side of the wall, so he drops to a hissed whisper. “Because I thought we told each other things!” 

“Look,” she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose under her glasses. “I don’t like people getting involved in my business, so I don’t get involved in theirs.”

“I want you involved in my business, Gen.” 

“I… I-” Gen sighs again. It’s like all the wind escaped from her body, along with the will to fight. “I’m sorry. 

_What?_

“You’re right. I should’ve said something.” 

“Wh-” Noah starts to ask, when Gen cuts him off before he can finish the first word. 

“I got dragged into so many arguments in the villa. Ones that didn’t involve me in any way. The whole experience drained me.” She casts her wide eyes down into her lap. “I kept thinking if I said anything, I’d lose you as a friend, especially after Bobby and I ended whatever our thing was, and Priya leaving.”

Noah didn’t know what he’d expected, but it wasn’t _that._

“Remember when I pulled a sickie, when the girls went for their spa day? 

“I told you, I’ve just been watching that episode.”

“You brought me tea in bed. It was awful, but you tried. You kept me company all day,” she says wistfully. “You taught me how to do a braid crown. That was one of my favourite days in the villa.” She’s looking back at the screen, watching his reaction through suddenly shy eyes. It catches him off guard, and his heart flutters. “Our little chats were what kept me going.” 

_Oh._

Gen shifts awkwardly in her chair, and pushes her slipping glasses back up her nose again. Does she even realise how much weight her words carry? 

Quickly, she says, “Apart from Lucas coming back, of course.”

_Oh_. 

“Of course.”

The silence is awkward. Noah spends what feels like an age wracking his brain to find something to say to fill it, but finally Gen speaks up instead.

“What’s the best case scenario… if you meet up with Hope?” she asks. “You get back together?”

“What?” Noah scoffs. “No! Just… just closure, I think. To find out why she ghosted me.”

“You said when you broke up that you knew it was coming. What does her reason ‘why’ matter?”

“I…” Noah falters. “I don’t know.” 

“Okay, so what’s the worst thing that could happen if you don’t meet her?” 

“I’ll never know how to be good enough.”

Her head tilts, like a curious puppy, but her mouth falls open into a sad, little _o_ shape. “Noah, please believe me when I say this. You _are_ good enough. Please don’t think that. You deserve someone who appreciates who you are.” 

_Like who exactly?_

Silence again. His mind races, searching for a way to shift the conversation. And finally, he says, “Are you at home?”

“Are you changing the subject?”

“Yes. Answer the question.”

Gen laughs, the only real laugh she’s given him throughout their whole conversation.

“C-mon, Gen. I can’t tell what room you’re in.”

“It’s our studio!” She looks proud. “Wanna see?”

He nods, and she picks up the phone and flips the camera, panning the room. She’s sat at a long desk, with several monitors and equipment Noah supposes would be for mixing. There’s a large drum kit at the far end of the room, Gen’s obviously, and keyboard next to it. A camera on a tripod is set up facing that side of the room. Framed posters and photos adorn the walls, and there’s a well worn sofa pushed against one wall, with floor cushions scattered in front of it. Despite all the wires and equipment everywhere, it’s cosy and inviting. 

“Nice!” Noah says, genuinely. “So what are you doing in there at three in the morning?”

Gen settles herself back into her chair, propping up the phone again, and says “The guys came back from a lock-in, but Lucas hadn’t been to one before and they got him so pissed he’s snoring the house down. It’s quiet in here.”

Noah laughs along with her, but he makes a mental note to google what a lock-in is later. 

“Sounds like he had fun.”

“Hmm. I’m not sure it’s his thing.”

“Fair enough,” he says, unsure of the appropriate response. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re awake.” 

She blushes, and leans forward covering her shy smile with her hand. “I’m recording a song I wrote… for the guys to practice tomorrow,” she says. 

Noah’s whole face brightens, he’d been wanting to hear her sing properly ever since he’d overheard her singing under her breath while making breakfast one morning last summer. She had stopped so abruptly when she realised he’d stopped buttering his toast to listen. Her flushed cheeks looked so endearing, then and just now. 

“Not a chance.”

“Please?” He puts on his best puppy dog eyes. 

She laughs and sticks her middle finger up at the camera. “You can hear it when it’s released, like everyone else.” 

“Has anyone ever told you how mean you are?”

“Yes,” she says with an angelic smile. “But they’re wrong. I’m a delight.” 

*******

Noah and Gen talked easily, about everything and nothing until the black outside faded into the coolest blue, and they bid hushed goodbyes through stifled yawns. He called into work, knowing he’d be useless without any sleep - the first sick-day he’d ever taken that wasn’t for something beyond his control. But as he drifted to sleep, with his phone still in his hand, he didn’t feel a trace of guilt. All that occupied his mind was Genevieve’s smile, and her sweet bare face in those glasses.

He wakes four hours later with the sound of a sharp rap on his door from Leila. Noah groans and pulls the covers over his face. 

“Wake up, dickhead. I made lunch.” Leila doesn’t _do_ apologies. Feeding people is her way of showing she’s sorry. And though Noah is grateful for the gesture, it’s still Friday.

“You should be at school.”

There’s a short silence, and then she says, “It’s free period.” 

“Liar.”

“Ugh. Just get up before it goes cold.” 

***

“Okay,” Leila says brightly. Apparently her tantrum last night has been long forgotten. “Seeing as we’re both free-”

“I’m still not happy with you about skiving,” Noah says through a mouthful of a pakora. 

“Shush big brother. You’re skiving too,” she says with an unashamed grin. “As I was saying, we’re both free, so let's skip ahead to episode twenty-one. There’s a scene where you and Gen are-”

“Actually, I finished that one last night.” 

Leila scowls at him. “I really wanted to talk you through that bit. Once you finally stop harping on about Hope she just lights up around you,” she says wistfully. “And you look so cute together. Like an old married couple.”

Noah’s stomach twists uncomfortably. In a way… she’s kind of right, that’s exactly what they looked like. But that’s not what it was. And though Noah knew he had never been good at picking up signals, or body language, or anything of that nature, he was absolutely sure there had been nothing in her actions that day to suggest anything could have happened between them. Almost sure. 

“Fuck, you really memorised it to study, huh?”

The corners of her mouth twitch up a little, and she twirls her fork between her fingers. “Maybe.”

“What did you see then? What was so special?” Noah asks, holding his breath subconsciously. 

Leila takes pleasure in drawing out his agony. Her sly smirk she directs to the ceiling, chewing her mouthful for far longer than necessary. 

“Lala-”

“When you touch her she leans into it. If you watch closely,” Leila points her fork at his eyes for dramatic effect, “you’ll see it. It’s like when you stroke a cat, and they arch their body into your hand. When you were doing her hair, she had her eyes closed the whole time, leaning into you.” 

Had he really missed all of that? _Shit_ . Why is seeing the deeper meaning so lost on him, he wonders. He can see it so easily when it’s not personal, in music and movies and writing, but when it comes to _actual_ people… it’s like someone has constructed an enormous wall around him, obscuring his view. 

“And she watches you, Noah. When you’re talking and she thinks you’re not looking, her eyes go huge and melty when she looks at you. She wants to know you’re having a good time. That’s what we call a sign.”

“Who’s we?” Noah asks. 

Leila stands up and carries her plate over to the sofa, and without looking back at her big brother, she says, “People with eyes.”

Noah drops his eyes to his still half-full plate. He’s not hungry anymore. 

“Are you coming?” Leila asks, as she loads episode twenty-two on the TV. But Noah doesn’t want to see it. Not while contemplating his sister’s observations on his non-existent relationship with Gen, and knowing _exactly_ what’s coming next.


	12. Tension Headache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be longer, but it got waaaaaay too long so I've split it into two and C13 will be coming next week. Again, sorry for the long-ass wait. I have too many projects. *Frustrated sigh.*
> 
> Huge thank you to Jess who proofread, and to everyone in the LITG fanfic discord who vibe-checked my mood board and all their encouragement!

He stumbles through her bedroom door, the stench of vodka emanating from his clothes, his breath, every pore on his body. Gen wrinkles her nose, but she pulls back the duvet for him anyway, and he flops into it, face down on the pillow. 

“Did you have a good time?” she asks, reaching forward to pull off his muddied shoes, brushing the dirt from the sheets. “That drunk you forgot about your shoes?”

Lucas makes a disgruntled sort of noise into his pillow and balls up his fists. 

“It didn’t go well?” 

“What gave it away?” he growls. 

Gen sighs. “Why don’t you just tell me what happened?”

He drags himself up, swaying slightly, and his ears are bright red with anger, matching his narrowed and bloodshot eyes. Gen casts her eyes down. His knuckles are whitening from gripping onto the pillow. She sucks in her breath.

“You made me go with them,” he says accusingly. “They don’t like me and it’s so _fucking_ obvious. They spent the whole time ignoring me and talking about how they couldn’t wait to take out Bobby next time. Fuck… fucking _Bobby!_ ”

Her friend's fondness of Bobby was no secret. They met when the guys flew over to support Gen for the final and hit it off straight away. Now, when her sorta-kinda ex comes to visit, he spends half the time hanging out with them as if they were old friends themselves. She wrings her hands. It must be hard for Lucas to feel pushed aside in favour of someone else, time and time again.

“I wanted to be with you, and you palm me off on your friends so you can do, _what_... write music that’ll never be heard?”

Still looking at his whitening knuckles, her cheeks burn, and she ignores the stinging remark. “I only wanted you to get to know them better.”

“ _Why_? I just want to know you.” 

“They’re my family, Lucas.” 

A deep frown sets upon his face. “No, they’re not. They’re the men you live with who treat your boyfriend like shit on their shoe. Your _family_ isn't around. Your mother can’t even-”

Gen’s head snaps up. “Don’t you _fucking_ dare.”

Looking him in the eye she can tell he already regrets the words that spilt out of his sloppy, drunken, mouth but it’s too late. Lucas reaches for her hands but she whips them away and swings her legs out of the bed. Just as she stands he makes a grab for her top, and even in his inebriated stupor, he’s still strong enough to keep her from going anywhere for a moment.

“Please, Gen- Genevieve, I’m sorry.” His voice cracks on her name. He pulls himself onto his knees and drags her back to him, wrapping a thick arm around her. Her chest goes tight, both with the pressure of his body and the weight of his words. He buries his head against her belly. “I’m sorry, darling.” 

“Get off me,” Gen hisses. 

He presses a wet, clumsy kiss against a little exposed skin, and it tickles. Normally she would laugh, tease him for it. She wishes she could now. Instead, she seethes. The anger rises up inside her, like hot bile. Gen pushes him off, hard. So hard, he falls backwards into the headboard of the bed and his back makes a sickening crack against it. She scarpers towards the door. Her breath heaves as he groans and clutches his head, in pain or disappointment - she couldn’t tell. 

The way Lucas looks up at her makes her mouth go dry, like a puppy that’s just been stepped on by its loving owner. But then he tilts his head back, and the muscle in his jaw twitches. The intoxicated ego takes over. 

“You’re going to leave me for him,” he snarls. “I know it.”

Gen blanches. “For who?”

He eyes her but says nothing. Does he mean Noah? Or Bobby? He’s always been the jealous type, though it only ever manifests itself like this when he drinks. But she had thought after their last big fight, the one in London, that he’d let this go. Gen’s forehead pinches up, and there’s a lump in her throat that makes it hard to speak. 

“You’re a nasty fucking drunk, Lucas.”

Regret flashes over his face for a half-second and his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat, but then it’s replaced by a mask of disdain. She opens her mouth and snaps it shut again. He likely won’t remember this in the morning, and they still had the long drive to London to talk this out. Gen steps out of the room, pulling the door to as quietly as possible. Through the crack, just before she turns away, she watches her boyfriend slump down in the bed and buries his face in his hands. 

The wall is so cold when she presses her forehead against it, soothing the tension headache already forming. With the loss of her bed, she would like to curl up on the sofa as close as she can get to the fireplace, but now that she’s in the hallway, she can hear her housemates chatter from the lounge. Gen has no energy to explain to them why she’s up at this time. Why she and Lucas had another fight, just when things seemed like they were improving. Down the stairs she goes, avoiding the creaks by keeping to the edges and she slips on her wellies before pelting across the garden before she froze in the heavy snow. 

She sighs heavily as she walks in. _Another_ night in the studio. This was the worst it’s been in weeks. Gen felt grateful yet again for Arthur’s insistence to keep a mini-fridge and a kettle in here, as she pulls her favourite mug from the cupboard. And she had the foresight to keep a few blankets in a basket next to the sofa, after one of the bigger fights with Lucas in the last couple of months. Her hands shake as she makes the tea, wishing it was something stronger. Wishing she could turn back time and let Lucas stay home with her. And yet, the smallest part of her wished she had never invited him this weekend at all. 

Music always distracted Gen. When she was sad. Angry. Anxious. When sleep escaped her. So, in an effort to stop her shaking hands, she switches on both the camera and the keyboard. This is how she ends distracting herself with a song. For over an hour she plays and sings those lyrics she wrote earlier, until her voice goes hoarse. 

She pauses to make another cup of tea, and scrolls through her phone while the kettle boils until she finds the message from Noah. She still hadn’t figured out how to reply to his message about her red bikini. She starts typing something and just as quickly deletes it. And then, while still looking at his name, the message comes through from him, and she hesitates for a millisecond before sending her reply. Gen combs her fingers through the hair falling out of her bun, before pressing _call_.

*****

“Rise and shine, lass.” A voice moves through the fog of fretful dreams. She blinks as a strong hand rubs her shoulder. “Come on, time to join the land of the living. 

“Morning, Bobby,” Gen grumbles. She nudged his hand off so she could stretch out. 

“Afternoon would be more appropriate.” Bobby chuckled when she groaned. Sleeping on the sofa in the studio wasn’t her best idea. Bobby winced as her back cracked loudly, and held his hand out for her to pull herself up. Once she was comfortable again, he pressed a steaming mug into her hands. Despite being a morning person himself, her friend knew just how gently to wake her if he wanted to avoid a sour mood. 

“I could go for some brunch, y’know,” Bobby muses as he lifts Gen’s legs just to sit underneath then. He drums his fingers on her shin. “I made a class sourdough loaf last night, and you’ve got some bacon that needs using up.” 

Unbothered by the close proximity with her kinda-sorta ex, she drags the blanket back over both of them and sips at the best cup of tea she’s had all week. Gasping out the hot air, she says “I’m gonna take back your key if you’re gonna start rooting through my fridge before even saying hello.” He grins and pinches her. 

Their friendship seemed strange to most, but Gen had always felt in her bones that they were cut from the same cloth, too similar in their insecurities to have a functioning romantic relationship. Though Gen doesn’t consider herself an open book - not in the same way as Bobby, at least - she felt able to open up to him more and more with every passing day. He was one of the few people who knew that how she conducted herself in public, and how she truly was in private was something different. Not a lie as such, but a mask of false bravado to wear in front of the cameras. Bobby had learned to respect that about her when the dust had settled between them. Snippets of Gen’s hidden past only spilt out of her when they were earned. When she felt completely comfortable. 

In the past few months, their lives had become deeply intertwined. He spent his weekends at hers, even when she wasn’t there, becoming fast friends with her boys and bunking in whoever's bed he stayed up with the latest. Bobby lit up their lives like no other. She’d met his family, on an impromptu trip to Glasgow. He and his sister were carbon copies of one another, and she loved the way they opened their home to her. Over dinner, Gen had said as such, and Bobby replied they were used to taking in the waifs and strays with a smirk, which was quickly wiped off his face when three legs kicked his shins under the table. 

Now, Gen wonders if Bobby was the one Lucas had meant last night. This baker boy who makes her favourite tea and has a key to her home. But she behaves with him as she does with her bandmates. The only difference is that her relationship with Bobby didn’t start off platonically. Maybe that’s what Lucas can’t move on from? She rubs at her temples with fingers warmed from the mug of tea, just barely easing the tension headache still present from the night before.

Thoughts drifted to her boyfriend. Wondering if he were still upstairs, sleeping off the alcohol and his foul mood in her bed. She felt compelled to go to him. Curl up in his arms and say sorry for what she’d put him through. Apologise for the only close friendships she’d ever had. The problem with Gen is that her mind had long become a demo-reel that only ever highlighted her negative qualities. Criticisms, even tiny ones, from her loved ones were blown out of proportion, and instead of addressing it head-on, she would internalise in effort to forgive and forget far too quickly. It’s entirely possible that he had no idea what he was saying last night, he hadn’t been that drunk in a while. But it’s just as possible that he meant Bobby. And that would be worse. 

She peeks at her friend, sitting underneath her legs and sipping his own tea, with his phone in hand. She sneaks a look at the screen. _Tinder_. She stifles a snigger when he catches her, despite the pain tightening her chest. Despite the desperation she feels to go and make up with Lucas, she smiles broadly at her friend, who rolls his eyes while his ears flush red. 

“So, bacon sandwiches, or have we got time for a full brunch?” he says, as he looks back at his phone and swipes right on a blonde girl with enormous breasts. 

Gen glances at her watch, which reads twelve forty-five. Noah might be up now. Through a stifled yawn, she asks, “Time before what?” 

  
Bobby pulls a face. “ _Practice,_ you dick.”


End file.
